I'm With You
by Karin-Sama3
Summary: Meeka knows that something is wrong, missing, but her nightmares don't give her many clues. But when a mysterious orange-haired boy stops her from jumping off a bridge by calling her a different name, she starts to remember another life and past love. As her memories resurface, she returns to the Sohma Main House, this time a prisoner, and much closer to the truth of the curse.
1. Standing on the Bridge

I'm With You

By: Karin-sama

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any Fruits Basket character or plot idea. Ideas and characters taken from the series Fruits Basket are used without permission purely for non-profitable (at least in the currency value of the term) fun.

Chapter one: Standing on the Bridge

How long would it take before anyone noticed? The cold of the metal guardrail was beginning to seep through her wool mittens as she watched the slippery darkness of the water move beneath the bridge. One day, certainly, would pass, maybe two. The restaurant would send someone to stop by once they figured out the phone was disconnected. Whoever it was would find the cat. They wouldn't leave the cat.

Snow drifted around her in soft circles, settling in patterns on her coat. She could see a fleck above her vision as one caught in her eyelash. They swept in cyclones off the bridge and down into the current. Once they touched the black, they disappeared. Wouldn't it be just that easy? Fall, and disappear.

And everything would be black. No more nightmares. No more starting at strange sounds or movements. No more empty feeling in her chest. Someone, surely, would find the cat soon. Miki, most likely.

She thought again, standing alone by the guardrail. She thought of her apartment that was waiting for her. The apartment that until recently had been spotless. She had shared it with her mother for ages. Then her mother had been killed in the car accident. The apartment had been left to her.

That was all she could remember. She worked at the Tsunami, a popular restaurant / club within walking distance of the apartment. She'd been working there ever since the accident. She was a cook in their kitchens. She'd made them famous with her signature fish sauce. She had never told anyone how she made it. The secret, of course, was the strawberries.

She leaned farther over the railing, feeling it press beneath her ribcage, seeing the river from a new unobstructed vantage point. Her face felt cold, and she wondered briefly how much colder she would be, and for how long, once she was in the water.

She'd been ok, considering, after the death. Her mother had apparently set her up in style, though she had never guessed that they had so much. She'd made friends quickly among her coworkers at the restaurant, especially Miki, one of the waitresses. Miki used to walk her across this bridge on evenings when they both closed up shop. Miki would chat and total up tip money in her head as they crossed the water, drop her off at her door, and head off to catch the last bus across town.

Sometimes, when they were running late and the bus already gone, Miki would return and stay the night. Now Miki had a new boyfriend, which was understandable, but it made trips home lonelier.

That wasn't how it happened, though. Meeka bowed her head over the rail, lifting one foot from the pavement to try and mimic the sensation of floating. It wasn't even at the restaurant or at home. It was a shortcut she had taken home from the grocery. It was early afternoon on a beautiful day during the summer. How many months ago? It seemed like such a long time. The day was gorgeous; the path through the park seemed the only logical way to go. It would be nice to watch families together. It would be nice to remember and pretend.

The cold that enveloped Meeka now had nothing to do with the wind or winter. She closed her eyes, feeling slightly dizzy since she was mostly balanced by her gripped hands on the rail and her weight on the bar. Perhaps she would fall by accident, without ever having to make the decision on her own. That would be the easy way. She hated making decisions.

Her hair had been long then. Long and loose behind her, blown a little back by her movement. She was walking without really looking where she was going. She was watching a mother pushing her little girl on a swing. Meeka's mother had pushed her on a swing.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. She walked right underneath a willow tree. The branches snagged in her hair. It had probably happened to her a million other times in different places. It wasn't even dark outside.

Meeka drew in her stomach muscles tight at the memory. Once she felt the tug on her hair, it was as if she had gone blind. She had squeezed her eyes shut, holding her breath. The branch held on for a moment, but let go quickly as her knees buckled under her. She dropped her grocery bag and pulled all her limbs as close to her as she could, overcome with strange emotions of loss and terror. People must have stared. All she could see was light on a wooden floor and a pale red robe sweeping close to her. Then black. Then nothing.

The young mother from the swing had come over to her and gently helped her put her things back in the bag. Her eyes had a little concern mingled with pity, but she hadn't asked any questions. That was a relief since Meeka had no answers. It was just a branch.

But she had her hair cut as short as possible the next afternoon.

That was the moment where things started spiraling. Images turned up in her dreams that made her tense, ill, and frightened. There was an animal, deformed, fanged, and dark. There was her mother's grave wet and pelted with rain. There was a girl in a black cloak. But the worst, and the most frequent nightmare, was a black haired young man. His face was cruel and beautiful. He made her tremble on the inside. He stabbed at her spirit. She hated and feared and obsessed about his face.

Where had she seen him before? She couldn't remember. And trying to remember made her realize a few things.

The apartment she remembered with her mother was not the apartment she lived in. She remembered going to a high school when her mother died, but when she had gone to the high school in the city it looked nothing like what she remembered. Instead of blue uniforms, they wore brown. She had asked the principal. They had never worn blue uniforms.

Why did she remember wearing blue? And why didn't she remember graduating?

Since that day in the park, she questioned everything she ever thought of. Why had she responded like that? Why did her grandfather on her father's side not come help her? Why couldn't she remember finishing high school when she remembered clearly making the promise on her mother's grave? Why couldn't she find her mother's grave? She could see it, in her head, but had combed every cemetery in the city with no success. Why wouldn't she have been buried here? Worse, why couldn't she remember?

With every new question, the black eyes in the cold, lovely face filled with more hatred, malice, and a little satisfaction at her torment. She ached with a longing that she couldn't place, and despaired that the eyes thought that was amusing.

She asked her landlady about the apartment. Who had it belonged to before? When had she and her mother moved in? How was it being paid for since Meeka had yet to make a single rent payment?

"Your mother?" The landlady asked with a curious expression. "Honey, a man rented this place out for you. He said someone was staying here and sends me a check every month."

"A man," she repeated, wondering if it was the same one in her dreams. "Who is it? What is his name?" The woman had stared at her with the kind of look one gives to those who are mentally challenged.

"I'm not sure. It's never on the checks; they look like they're from some business. But, wait, he did tell me his name." She paused, looking far upward as if the memory she wanted were just out of her vision. Meeka wrung her hands worriedly. Who was this man? Did she know him? She must, right? Otherwise, he wouldn't be paying her rent.

"I remember," the landlady said, smiling. "Sohma. His name was Sohma." Meeka's hopes fell. Although Sohma was a common last name, she didn't know anyone with it.

It made her paranoid and fearful. Where did she come from if all her memories were of this city? What if someone had kidnapped her and put her in this place to keep watch on her? What if something had happened to her, something that was so terrible even she couldn't remember it, and she had been sent away? Who was Sohma? Why did seeing a man in her dreams that she didn't recognize fill her with such dread? What was wrong with her that everything was so confusing and yet so empty? Were Sohma's eyes cold and black? Was it that man who paid her landlady? And if so, what were the chances that he would just show up at her door in a pillar of terror one evening after work?

She had bought a lock for her apartment door.

What had really brought her up short this night on her way home, though, wasn't the fear. It was terrible, and she certainly wished she could lie in her bed at night and rise from it in the morning without the interruptions between. What the worst thing was about the images and the questions was that no one seemed to know or care. Hadn't she had a life before her memory started? Didn't anyone from that life notice she was missing?

Where were her relatives? If this Sohma person had cared enough for her to make sure she had a place to stay for what seemed to be an indefinite amount of time, then why didn't she know him? Who was she anyway? Where did she belong? In the beginning, she thought the keen sense of grief and loss was because her mother was gone. Now she wasn't so sure. Was there someone else that was absent? Some other person she pined for? But if there were, and they hadn't contacted her, didn't that mean that she was longing for something that wouldn't respond?

The dreams and the absence of her best and only friend, Miki, had brought her here. It was too much. Her memories didn't match her life, and she realized for the first time just how useless and meaningless she was. No one missed her. No one needed her. No one thought of her except Sohma, who paid her rent. But if Sohma had black eyes, then the one relationship she still had (though distant) was too frightening to think about. And so she stood on the bridge, watching the water.

Miki would be surprised at the apartment. Meeka didn't keep it up the way she used to. She remembered the comforts of having her hands in soapy water. When the black-eyed man started appearing, she noticed that just the acts of cleaning weren't enough. Something was missing. Some sound or presence that her soul told her should be there, wasn't. All she knew was that pieces of herself were missing, and nothing she did replaced them. She was empty, a shell moving on instinct and routine. When she looked at her hands, they seemed like someone else's hands. Her clothes weren't her clothes. Nothing was right. She thought she was crazy, but no one seemed to notice. Miki chattered her nonsense during the day, and Meeka knew she smiled and spoke back, even though she was writhing on the inside between the extremes of terror and numbness.

She felt unloved, confused, and very much forgotten. She was afraid of her dreams, of herself, of everything that she had apparently left behind. The hopelessness of never being able to find out was crushing. The loneliness of missing someone she didn't even know existed was maddening. It made home an uncomfortable destination.

The bar under her ribcage was beginning to hurt with her weight pressed against it. She would have to move soon, one way or the other. Maybe one more night would change things. Maybe tonight something new would enter her dreams, something more welcoming.

But if it didn't? Could she handle these feelings any longer? Would one night be too long? She opened her eyes to look out at the cold choppy current. Once she was there, she couldn't change her mind. Would she want to? The tiny lights in the water from the street lamps reminded her of the glint that always shone in the eyes of the black man. She shuddered. Perhaps this is what he wanted. This was his plan all along, though she could never have known. Who was he? And if he were watching her, would he be happy when she was gone? She closed her eyes again, feeling the wind around her ears which made it seem as if she were floating.

"Tohru!" The name wasn't hers, but her body responded to it instantly. She pushed back from the bridge and felt the cement back under her shoes. She clutched her hands to her chest, feeling her pulsing heart. Calm down, she told herself, breathing deeply, no one was calling you.

But when she turned to complete her trek across the bridge, she found someone staring at her. His eyes were wide in shock and worry. His hands were at his sides, clenched tight. When she looked at him, her heart leaped again as if seeing an old friend. She felt the impulse to rush over to him and grab his hands. She wanted to be with him, though she was certain she had never seen him before.

"Don't you know it isn't safe for girls to be wandering around this late," the young man said. He looked about twenty around the eyes, though the leather jacket he wore made him seem younger. He wore no mittens, but the hood of his sweatshirt was pulled out of his coat and up over his ears.

Meeka paused, fighting with herself. That voice. He sounded restrained. He sounded angry. She took a step toward him. He sounded wonderful.

"Do you live around here?" The man continued, fidgeting a little as if he wanted to go to her as much as she wanted to throw herself at him. "Can't you talk?"

"Yes," Meeka said, surprised that she had to swallow first before she could get the word out. Had it been that long since she had last spoken? "I mean, yes, I live around here."

The youth shook his head as if he were suffering fools. "Well, come on then."

"What?" Meeka took a step back. Come on, where?

"Well, I'm not going to let you walk home by yourself. It's late, and it's dangerous. Now come on." She paused. What if he were setting her up? What if he wanted to find out where she lived? She'd heard stories about things like this happening. If it was so late, what was he doing out and about? Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

And yet, she was sure he wouldn't hurt her.

She fell into step beside him as if they had always walked across the bridge together. Her hand seemed to want to hold his, since it twitched toward him in automatic movement. She caught him looking at her out of the corner of his eye, then quickly shift his gaze elsewhere if he saw that she had noticed. There was a worry there that she didn't understand. The corners of his mouth turned down as if he were suppressing intense rage. Or perhaps he was trying to keep some other strong emotion in check. All Meeka knew was that for the first time in months, she felt better. Safe.

They didn't speak along the way, but Meeka didn't feel nervous or pressed to say anything. That was odd to her since she normally babbled around new people, especially new people who were this silent and broody. She found herself amazed that her heart was so calm striding in this young man's shadow. Everything about the meeting was strange. She was taking a stranger to her home and it was after eleven at night. There was no one else there, and no one to help her if she needed it. She should find a way to get away from him. She certainly shouldn't let him know where she lived! It wasn't as if he were overly friendly either. He was curt in speech and hard in body. She was certain he could very easily best her in strength, speed, and tricks. He wasn't exactly the kind of person who would normally win her attention or affection. In fact, now that she looked at him without thinking about her feelings, he was rather frightening.

But she didn't want him to leave her.

He didn't seem surprised when she led him up the stairs to her attic apartment. The place was well-lit, clean, and in a good neighborhood. He did seem surprised when she drew a key from her pocket to unlock the door.

"You lock your door?" He asked her, as if she had never locked a door before in her life.

"Well, yes," she stuttered, unsure of herself. How could she describe the kind of panic that might follow her into these rooms if she didn't at least try to put up some barrier? It wasn't as if it helped anyway. "You know, a young woman, living alone. You can't be too careful."

He grunted in reply and held the door open for her to enter first. For the first time since she had stopped caring if the place were tidy or not, Meeka was ashamed of her apartment and the mess.

There wasn't a lot of room in the apartment. There was a small kitchen where the front door opened, and this, naturally, was the worst room of the house. Every dish she owned was sitting in or near the sink. What wasn't there was scattered in other parts of the house. She was sure there was at least one cup and saucer by her bed where she'd tried to comfort herself under her quilts after a horrible time trying to sleep.

She hadn't swept in a good long while, or dusted, or much of anything. She had taken care of the cat, so at least everything pertaining to his housekeeping had been tended to.

"I'm sorry about the mess," Meeka squeaked, horribly embarrassed when she realized that this stranger that she so wanted to impress was staring around with his mouth open. She went about the kitchen, moving things and straightening in nervous fidgets while he stood at the door as if expecting her to do something. "Please have a seat. Would you like some tea?"

"No," the man said, shaking his head as if to clear it. "I mean, I'll make it. Why don't you run yourself a hot bath? You've got to be cold."

"Um," Meeka didn't know quite what to do with that invitation. How could she possibly feel comfortable taking a bath when she knew there was this strange person in her kitchen?

Her cat, Kyo, meandered in from the back bedroom while she considered the dangers of leaving the stranger alone in her house. He greeted her with a warm meow and then curled himself around her legs. From his position of safety at her feet, he stared at the newcomer, but then surprisingly rubbed himself against his legs too.

"Well, I guess if Kyo likes you," Meeka consented as she smiled at her pet. She realized as she looked at them both together that Kyo's fur was exactly the same color as the stranger's hair, orange.

Her guest froze in the act of petting the cat. "What did you say his name was?" He asked, staring at her with that half-shocked, half-hopeful expression again.

"His name is Kyo," Meeka said, still smiling at them. "And he usually doesn't like strangers. Not that I bring strangers home every night, though. But if he trusts you, then I trust you."

"Good," her new friend said, not looking at her as if afraid she would suddenly notice something about his face that would startle her. "Now how about that bath?"

"Right. Are you sure?"

"Go on. I'll have tea ready when you get back. Now go."

For reasons she couldn't explain, she felt compelled to move. It would be fine, so long as he was here, in her apartment, making tea in her kitchen. She finally felt as if she had come home.

She knew immediately once the hot water was running into the tub and she could faintly hear the clack of dishes being moved together a little ways down the hall that these were the sounds she had been missing. All those evenings where she had played the radio as loud as she dared with other renters living below her had been in an attempt to replicate these sounds, this presence. She had no idea she had been so lonely.

But it wasn't just loneliness. It was the certain movements of this stranger's hands as he talked. The particular way he made a fist. The way he closed his eyes before speaking something. All of those minor details had been observed and made sense. Everything about her logic told her that this entire situation should be awkward. And what made it even more so was the fact that it wasn't.

Even though Meeka hurried through her bath as much as she could, the water feeling much better than she had anticipated, her orange haired escort had not only made tea but was making a heavy dent in the dirty dishes near her sink and had riceballs sitting on a platter next to her steaming cup.

"I didn't know if you'd eaten anything," he explained as she stared at the much improved kitchen and food. "I figured you could save it for tomorrow if you weren't hungry."

"No, I'm hungry. Thank you." It hadn't occurred to her until just that very second that even though she had spent her entire afternoon and most of her night in a restaurant, she had not eaten a single thing. "Please have some too."

When he sat at the Western style table, he curled one leg underneath him. He had removed his coat, but she couldn't see where he had stashed it. He wore a light green sweatshirt and khaki cargo pants. She had put her pajamas on and hadn't thought about it.

The riceballs were very plain, with only a slight dusting of salt. She thought she was the only one who liked riceballs this way. "These are great," she told him as he sat watching her with a mug in his hands. "I always make my rice this way."

"I know," he said absently, which made her stop chewing a second to look at him. What did he mean, he knew?

"Who are you?" She pressed, determined now to figure out why his being in her kitchen was so comforting. "If you don't mind my asking."

For a second he looked panicked. Then he smoothed his features over again and answered, "I'm no one special."

"But your name? I'm Meeka, by the way, I don't think I mentioned it before."

"Meeka?" The way he held his mouth made it seem as if the name felt strange to him. "I guess it suits you." Then he sighed the way a person does when they know they have to come up with some answer even if they don't want to. "My name is Niko." She didn't believe, but couldn't say why.

"It's nice to meet you, Niko. I don't know what you must think of me, inviting strangers into my house when I don't even know their name." Niko made a funny noise, kind of like a snort and a grunt at the same time. It made a pressing need of explaining herself rise in her chest. "It's just that I've been having the most horrible time here by myself at night, and it just feels so natural for you to be here, and even Kyo likes you so you can't be one of those people you hear about on the news who kidnap girls."

"You're babbling," Niko said, gently, and even though the words were a little abrupt, he was smiling as he said them. "So I guess you must be feeling better."

She felt herself blush, more at his smile than at his words. When she looked back up into his face, though, the smile was gone and he was once again serious.

"What do you mean, having a horrible time?" He asked, tightening his grip on his teacup.

Meeka felt tears sting her eyes and quickly took a gulp of hot tea so she could hide it. It had been so long since anyone had really asked her about herself. She knew that her emotions were always near the surface, but hadn't expected such a strong reaction at such a gruff question. "It's nothing really. It probably wouldn't make sense if I told you."

"Try me. I'll listen."

Meeka hesitated a moment more, but realized that since he was already in her home that she may as well trust him a little more. "Well, I've been having these dreams. I see the most random things. A mouse in a cage, a bright lit wooden floor with a light red robe sweeping across it, a black dog, and the worst is this man." Niko's knuckles turned white around the cup.

"A man?" He encouraged, and Meeka could tell it was a struggle for him to keep his voice calm.

"He's dressed all in black, and he has the blackest eyes." Meeka shivered even though she was no longer cold. "I see them everywhere. I don't know what it is about them. They're just the same as anyone's eyes, but they make me so afraid. It's getting to the point that I would do anything to just make it stop."

Niko, who had been contemplating his plate, raised his eyes quickly as she finished. There was understanding in his eyes and a deep pain, but before Meeka could ask about his expression, he asked a question of his own.

"You said you see the eyes everywhere, but have you actually seen the man from your dreams?" Niko seemed very genuinely concerned, which made Meeka feel even more like she could trust him. She had expected him to think she was a little off.

"No, I've never seen him. I just imagine him everywhere. But as soon as I started seeing him in my dreams, I started noticing other things too."

"Like what?" Niko pressed, leaning slightly across the table.

"Well, stupid things really. Like my school uniform. I distinctly remember wearing a blue school uniform, and I've always lived in this city, but the principal at the high school told me that they had never used blue at their school. And I can't seem to find my mother's grave. I can see it in my head very clearly, but I've checked every cemetery within miles of here and she's just not there. You'd think I could remember where my own mother was buried, right? I'm starting to wonder," she paused to laugh nervously, hoping that her words weren't going to chase off Niko. She didn't know what she would do. "I'm starting to wonder if I'm crazy or something."

"When did all this start?" Niko seemed uncomfortable with her memories, but she could tell that he believed her. She wondered why for a moment, but quickly moved on. He was the one being nice to her, after all. She explained about the walk in the park and how the branch had caught in her hair. He nodded.

"So that's why you cut your hair," he murmured, staring into his quickly cooling tea. His statement brought Meeka up short.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't think I told you I cut my hair," she challenged him. Sometime during their discussion she had made up her mind that somehow she knew who Niko was. She wasn't sure where she had met him before, but there was no doubt about the feelings of familiarity he inspired. He startled a little at her words, but recovered quickly.

"Well, your hair is too short right now to catch on anything, so I just figured you must have had it cut since then." Meeka settled back down, but only for a moment.

"Niko," she said, leaning across the table a little now as well. "I know you."

He stood up so fast he nearly upset both their tea mugs. "What are you talking about? I've never met you before."

"You called me something else when you saw me at the bridge. Why?"

"It was a mistake, that's all. I thought you were a friend of mine; you look just like her. I called her name and then saw I was wrong. But I couldn't just leave you there by yourself, so here we are. That's all there is to it."

Meeka shook her head. She was so close to figuring it out. At least she thought she was. He must know the answers that she was looking for. All she had to do was get him to tell her.

"But you feel so familiar to me. You know what kind of riceballs I like. When you called me by that other name, everything inside me jumped as if it were mine. I don't know who you are, or who you were, to me, but I'm sure that we knew each other."

"I'm telling you, Meeka, that I've never seen you before. I'm sorry about what you're going through, but you've made some kind of mistake. Everyone gets lonely. Everyone wishes for things that aren't real, but whatever you think is familiar about me must have been traits from someone else you know.

"Anyway," Niko continued, calming himself down and grabbing his coat from where he had hung it on her doorknob. "I'd better get going. I have an appointment in the morning."

The idea that he might leave her alone hadn't really registered with Meeka until she saw him shrugging into his coat. "No, wait," she said quickly, reaching for his arm but pulling her hand away at the last second. "Please don't go. It's really cold out tonight, and it's so late that there are no more buses. Won't you stay just a while longer? I have a spare mattress and blankets." He looked skeptical. "I should at least make you a good breakfast after all the trouble I've put you through tonight. I know you probably couldn't tell when you came in, but I'm actually a pretty good cook. I work at the Tsunami and everything. You must be right. I'm the girl who can't remember what color she wore in high school, so I'm sure you would remember better than I would if we've ever met before. I'm sorry for being so desperate about it." The words she was saying weren't exactly true. She still felt that he knew the things she wanted to know.

"Tell you what," Niko half-sighed, draping his coat over one of her kitchen chairs. "Why don't you go to sleep? I'll stay for a while to make sure you're sleeping all right before I head out. Ok?"

Meeka thought about pressing him. Hadn't he been listening? Didn't he realize what would happen if he took himself out of the apartment? The black eyes were most assuredly waiting on the threshold for him to leave so they could rush right in behind him. Even so, if it were true and she really didn't know him from somewhere, then it really wouldn't be appropriate for him to stay the night. She'd just met him a little over an hour ago. Perhaps if she didn't make early demands on his time, he would come back.

"Until I'm asleep?" She checked, just to make sure he meant what he said.

"Yeah, I'll wait until you're asleep. Now get going." She smiled at the command, but still hesitated at the point of the kitchen where it changed into hall. "What?" He quipped, gathering up their tea mugs. "You need me to tuck you in too?"

"No," she said quickly, feeling a blush rise to her face. "I'm just really glad you're going to stay. Thank you so much."

"Whatever," Niko shrugged and turned his full attention to the kitchen table as she made her way to her bedroom. It looked like it used to before she started having nightmares. The shadows weren't hiding anything sinister. Kyo had already curled up on her pillow, ready to settle down for the night. It'll be all right this time, Meeka, she thought as she pulled her covers over her shoulders. Kyo was purring softly. She could hear water running in the kitchen. She sighed contentedly for the first time in months and closed her eyes without fear.

Sometime in the darkness, she began to see images that made no sense. She followed a black dog down a flight of stairs. Miniature figurines of the Chinese zodiac were set along a banister including a small orange cat. A face peered down at her while she knelt on a cushion in a finely detailed room. The face was a man's, not smiling, and had eyes that were mis-matched as if one were blind. She could feel the hotness of tears on her cheeks and all the way to her neck. Her hands were clenched tightly.

"Wait a minute, Hatori," a smoky voice purred from somewhere behind the one candle glowing in the room. "I want them to see this."

Meeka could feel the muscles of her stomach tighten as she curled over her knees in supplication and pleading. "You don't have to do this," she heard herself whisper, but doubted anyone in the room had caught the words.

There were footsteps on the wooden floor, but she couldn't force herself to lift her head high enough to see who it was. Something told her she already knew, and that she didn't want to see the looks on their faces. She didn't want that to be the last she could picture in her final moments of memory.

"Akito," a child's voice pleaded.

"This is what happens," the smoke voice said sharply. "I told you before. She brought it on herself. She wanted to be what I already am. She thinks she understands us, but she can't. So watch, and then never speak her name again."

"I'm so sorry," Meeka gulped through sobs. A hand touched her head and she jerked sharply away from it.

"Calm down," another familiar voice, still in darkness. There was no longer a burning candle, and she no longer knelt on the floor. There was still a hand on her head. "There's nothing here but me." It took her a moment to recognize Niko's voice, which sounded slightly irritated, but once she did she struggled to get closer to him. The hand on her head remained, and another firmer hand pressed against her shoulder.

"Hold still," he commanded and she did as she was told. "You were having a nightmare and cried in your sleep. Was it him again?"

"It was him," Meeka felt her heart rate returning to normal. She could make out Niko's silhouette on the edge of her bed. His hand was soft against her skin, and she wondered if he might still be cleaning up in her kitchen. "Someone in the dream called him Akito." The hand on her shoulder tightened into a fist and Niko took a quick intake of breath.

"Can you tell me all that happened? Who else did you see?"

Meeka told him about Hatori and his one blind eye. She explained about the two sets of footsteps and how she hadn't lifted her eyes to see them. She recited every word she had heard in the dream.

When she was finished, Niko stood up. She was immediately afraid.

"You're not leaving, are you?"

"I've got to," Niko said, his voice angry again. "Look, I know it's going to be hard for you, but I have got to get going. There's nothing that's going to hurt you, all right?"

"How can you be so sure?"

"Just trust me, ok?"

"Niko," she reached out to him, but he was already across the room. She could see his shadow on the wall from the light in the hallway. "Will I ever see you again?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe."

"I'd like to, if that's not too forward to say. I feel better with you. I'm glad that we met tonight."

"Me too. I'll see what I can do. I don't come up to the city much, but if I do come again, you'll be here right? No more late nights standing on the bridge?"

"No."

"All right, then. That's a promise." He closed her door, but she didn't lie back down even after she heard him on the stairs outside the apartment. She propped herself up on her elbow, thinking about Niko and her dream. She had never had such a vivid one before. No one had ever spoke. There had never been any names. She wondered what it meant. Did it have anything to do with Niko? With the name he had called her at first? What was that name? Tama? No, Tora. She shook her head, staring at the little slivers of moonbeam coming in through the blinds on her bedroom window. She felt her soul stirring within her, as if it were waking up for the first time, and she said the name, knowing that it was hers, hearing it echo in her mind in many voices, some friendly and welcoming, some fast and worried, and one voice, Niko's, pulled itself up above the others, even though it was softer than any of them. Her heart warmed and her pulse quickened. She said the name again.

"Tohru."


	2. Why Is Everything So Confusing?

Author's note: Thanks for the kind reviews on my first chapter. Things are going to get more exciting from here on out, so I'm glad you enjoyed it so far.

Disclaimer: Again, I don't own Fruits Basket and am not being compensated in any way for this work. Now, on with the show!

Chapter Two: Why Is Everything So Confusing?

Kyo's motorcycle was the only sound in the yard that early in the morning, but no one came to look out their door or windows. Kyo was counting on that as he pulled his bike up next to Hatori's black car used for taking Akito out of Sohma House. He knew that no one would bother getting out of bed to look at the bad-luck cat.

He also knew that even though it was early, Hatori would be awake and already about his business. He wasn't disappointed either. The Dragon was serenely sipping tea at his computer, catching up on the paperwork that never seemed to get finished. He didn't pause in his work to look at Kyo either.

"Hatori," Kyo said as he walked into the room, not bothering to knock. "I need to talk to you."

Hatori sighed as if grieving the loss of civility in the world. "Kyo, I'm very busy at the moment, and it doesn't look like that will change at all today. . ."

"Hatori, I found her." Kyo put his hands on Hatori's desk, forcing the man to look him in the eye. The look on his cousin's face told him that he knew exactly who Kyo was talking about. "Last night."

"Sh," Hatori hissed, his good eye glancing around the room even though they were quite alone. Then he calmly got up from the desk and grabbed a jacket from a nearby hook. "Come on, before you say something stupid where someone can hear you."

He led Kyo outside and into the car. "What's this all about?" He asked as he started the vehicle and drove through the main gates of the Sohma land. The car sped up as they neared the highway. "What do you mean you found her? Why were you looking?"

"I thought you said that you had erased her memory," Kyo accused instead of answering, watching the scenery in front of them come faster and faster. "I thought you said that she wouldn't ever remember her time with us. That she would lead a normal life."

"Of course I did. Why? Did she see you?" His voice gained intensity. "Did she know you?"

"She saw me, and yeah, there were times when it seemed maybe she knew who I was."

"Times? What do you mean? Did you talk to her?"

"Well, yeah. I walked her home."

"Idiot," Hatori shook his head, his fists clenched on the steering wheel. Kyo felt rage tighten his chest.

"What's the big deal? It's not like anyone knew where I was. It's not like anyone followed me."

"How do you know, Kyo? She's been gone for a year, and we've all been better off without the constant tension. There have been less explosions." He paused to touch his face. "Less accidents. If he were to find out that you had gone to see her . . ."

"I didn't say I'd gone to see her because I didn't. I had business there already, and I wasn't followed, ok? That's not even the point."

"There shouldn't be a point. You said she didn't know you."

"No, I said there were times when it seemed like she might. But when you took her memory, how much did you take?"

Hatori's grip loosened on the wheel. "It was difficult," he confessed. "She'd spent so much time with us. So much of her emotions were wrapped up in you and Yuki, and the house and town. One thing led to another. I had to wipe her memory of the school, because of the time she spent as your classmate. I had to take her memory of the grocery store, of the paths in the woods where you walked. It seemed that everything was spiderwebbed together. I would follow one string of thought only to find it was connected with five others. I had to take away much more than in the past. It wasn't like with anyone else. Momiji's mother just had to lose a few months of her life, and she was willing to part with it. The same with Kana. The other children just had mere moments stripped from them. She was completely different."

"If she tried to remember, do you think she could?"

"She wouldn't try to remember if there were no trigger. The memory isn't something that you can erase like a chalkboard. You can take pieces of it and tie them off or lock them away. It's easier to keep them buried when someone wants them to stay that way. Momiji's mother still knows who he is somewhere deep inside her, but she won't acknowledge it. She wants to keep it repressed."

"Tohru knows there's something missing. You should have seen her, Hatori; she was a mess. She named her cat Kyo."

Hatori's head snapped over to look at him so sharply that Kyo worried he might drive the car off the road. "She what?"

"She has a cat, an orange one, named Kyo." The car slowed, pulling off the highway and onto a side street. Hatori pulled over and stopped it completely.

"Is there anything else? What else does she remember?" A little nervous now and wondering if he had made the right decision in telling Hatori anything at all, Kyo related the dream Tohru had told him before he left, along with the other visions she had disclosed.

"What are we going to do?" Kyo finished with the question. Hatori was staring off into space, his fingers tapping on his knee rapidly.

"Nothing," he said after a moment. "Don't tell anyone else about this. You haven't yet, have you?"

"No, but we need to do something."

"No, we don't. Just leave it alone. It's safer if you just pretend you didn't see her, and never go back there again."

"I can't do that."

"Don't be stupid, Kyo. What do you want to do? Make her remember you for some selfish reason of your own? You know what that would do. You want to drag her back into this hell where we live? Is that what you want for her?"

"You know where she was when I saw her?" Hatori looked away from him, as if he were done listening. "Do you? She was standing on a bridge. She was going to jump, Hatori. I'm not going to pretend I didn't see that."

"And what did you think I could do about it, Kyo? Do you think the memories of what happened to her here would make her feel better? Or maybe you don't remember either, those final days with Akito."

"Can't you make it easier for her? If you just went to see her once, you could bury her memories a little further. Make it so she wouldn't see Akito in her dreams. Make her happy again. And maybe you could give her something else. You said yourself that you had to take more than anyone before. It's messed her up. She's empty."

"I already risked too much getting that safe house for her. Akito doesn't know where she is, and he knows that no one else does either. I don't know what he'd do if he found out that either one of us had seen her. We're only just getting back to the way it used to be. Why don't you just leave it alone?"

"Because I don't like the way it used to be, or the way it's been since. You make it sound like it would be such a bad thing for her to remember the last little while she was here, but I think you're wrong. I think she would take it all back any second, just so she could feel like a real person again. It's you that wants to stay safe. It's got nothing to do with her."

Hatori started the car again, turning it around to head back the way they'd come. Kyo knew the discussion was over, but couldn't help giving it one last try.

"I guess I was being stupid," Kyo said, unable to look at his cousin who had returned to the same tight-lipped calm as earlier when he was alone in his office. "Stupid for thinking I could come to you for help."

"You can say what you want, but you know where my loyalties lie."

"Yeah, I do, and I'm shocked. When you think about it a little, he's done nothing for you. All he does is take. Then look at what she did for you. Look what she tried to do for all of us. Just think about that for a minute, and then tell me that you made a good choice picking your side."

"I don't have to explain myself to you. It wasn't like any of us tried to stop what happened."

"No, you don't. But I'm not the one you screwed up, either."

"I'm done talking about this, Kyo. I'm not going to see her, and you're not either. If he finds out about it, he'll have me do worse than take her memory. Don't you understand that? Promise me you won't see her again."

"Fine, whatever."

The car pulled back into its place, and Hatori got out of it as if nothing had happened. He didn't speak or look at Kyo again. Kyo kicked his bike into life much harder than necessary, and even though it was getting colder and starting to snow a little, he rushed it out of the main grounds and just kept speeding up.

He didn't slow down again until he'd reached his own home, far from both Shigure's house where he and Yuki had spent their teenaged years and far from the main house. Neither side missed him much these days, and he felt that he could probably spend the rest of his life never seeing any of them again.

That's why he groaned audibly when he saw Yuki's champagne colored Honda parked outside his dojo. After Tohru's memory had been erased and she was sent away, he hadn't spoken to Yuki. There didn't seem to be any point. After graduation from high school, Kyo had returned to his master's home in the mountains to continue his training. Then, while his master had gone away again on business, he had opened their dojo. His business was thriving, and what made it better was that none of his pupils knew anything about Yuki, Tohru, or any other Sohma.

Yuki, on the other hand, was continuing his education. His plan was to attend the local college in Tokyo, then study abroad in America. Everyone he knew was encouraging him into politics, and from the way Kyo saw it, there couldn't be a better place for a rat.

Yuki didn't look much different than he had in high school. He kept his hair cut short except for those two bangs that fell unevenly on the sides of his face. His clothes were clean and well-tailored, and he leaned against the driver side of the car looking off into the distance with his arms crossed across his chest and one ankle crossed as well. Already pissed, Kyo swore silently to himself and walked right past the Honda, intent on going inside without ever acknowledging his cousin.

"Kyo," Yuki said, abruptly lurching into motion when Kyo was almost completely past him. He caught the sleeve of Kyo's coat, and Kyo shrugged him off roughly. He closed his eyes to avoid looking at the silver-haired young man. "Don't be stupid, Kyo. I just want to ask you something."

"I don't have time," Kyo hissed and continued his way to the dojo, which would be dark and empty since he had not slept there for several days. His mind's eye gave him a quick picture of Tohru's kitchen, and he longed for her to be inside when he finally opened the door. He wondered briefly if he had done the right thing in coming back here to speak with Hatori. What if he'd just stayed with her? Told her the truth about himself and then just disappeared from Sohma life forever. Would anyone have noticed he was missing? But no, that would have been too dangerous a plan.

Yuki was still following him, and Kyo knew that there would be no way out of the conversation. He paused at the door, not wanting Yuki to think he would ever be welcome inside the dojo.

"Fine," he muttered, still not looking at the rat. "What do you want?"

Yuki turned suddenly shy. Kyo knew what he wanted, and he knew he was going to lie right to his face about it too. Because no one could know. He shouldn't have even mentioned it to Hatori. The thought of his dragon cousin curled his fingers into a fist against the wood. Why had he done that? What did he really expect from Hatori? The only thing he'd done was make more problems for himself, and who knew about Tohru? He really was stupid. It could have been his secret, his and hers, if he'd just come home instead. But she was unhappy, and he didn't think he could pretend for too long to be someone else, and he knew he couldn't pretend that she was someone else, no matter how different she acted.

"Did you," Yuki was now the one looking at the ground, but Kyo knew that his love for Tohru would overcome any feelings he would have about depending on Kyo for information. "Did you see her?"

"Of course not," Kyo huffed and turned the key in his lock. She locked her door now too. All the times he'd reminded her to lock the door, and she never did. It didn't feel natural to her not to trust humanity. But there was a lock on it now. "Hinoi is a big city, and it wasn't like I had the time to go looking for her or anything. It's better if we don't, you know."

"Yeah, I know." Yuki paused briefly, looking at Kyo directly now even as Kyo contemplated his keys. "Is she all right?"

"What? I said I didn't see her –"

"I know what you said. But you wouldn't have left without at least looking. And if you were looking, then you found her."

"If you know where she is, then why haven't you gone looking?" A faint blush came to Yuki's face and Kyo knew that he had gone looking, but apparently without success.

"I just want to know if she's ok."

"I'm sure she's just fine," Kyo was losing momentum now. He had lied before, many times, about his own feelings, even to himself. But he could see her crumpled up in her bed in the dark, sleeping but only just, and seeing things that she didn't understand, that were part of a life that was long forgotten to her. But she could remember if she wanted to, Hatori hadn't said that directly, but Kyo was sure of it. Her memories of him weren't erased, just locked away. And she was trying to unlock it, she must be, or she wouldn't have an orange cat. She wouldn't have cut her hair. She wouldn't have dreams of dogs or go around the entire city looking for a school with blue uniforms.

Kyo looked then at Yuki, feeling his rage grow since it was practically like looking in a mirror. He remembered his own feelings as he walked around Hinoi last night when he found her standing on the bridge. He wasn't lying about the business that brought him there. There was a dojo there that wanted to organize a competition between schools. The masters had gathered for a meeting to set dates and rules, but that had been long finished and Kyo had spent many hours walking around the city. He was looking for long brown hair and listening for a laugh that had released something in his spirit that even he wasn't fully aware of. And when he saw her, poised on the railing with the most horrible expression on her face it was both the worst and best feeling he could remember. Yuki wanted to see her too. But would he want to see what Kyo had seen?

The Tohru they knew was not the Tohru now. Always slim, she was practically skeletal when he found her. She was a shell, wandering around in a miasma of desperation and bad dreams. Yuki would be disappointed if he saw her. It would hurt him probably more than it had hurt Kyo. He almost wanted that. Sometimes, when he was alone and wishing that things had worked out differently, Kyo blamed Yuki. No one minded if some girl liked the cat. They thought her a little off maybe, but it didn't make anyone jealous. Yuki had made Akito jealous. Yuki made a choice, for himself and for her, and had made Akito force his hand too. He wasn't sure if Yuki felt guilt over anything he did, but maybe it was time that he should.

"What would you do," Kyo asked, running his palm over the smooth wood of his door frame. "If you did see her? It's not like she would know you. You'd just be some weird guy who started talking to her out of the blue. It wouldn't ever be the way it was."

"I know that, but I want to see her."

"I saw her on the bridge." The look on Yuki's face was priceless. Kyo wished he could remember that expression forever. Yuki was indebted to him, because Kyo finally had the upper hand for something. He triumphed in the moment as long as he could. "I think. I mean, it was dark and snowing, but it sort of looked like her. Maybe it wasn't."

For one brief second, Kyo was sure Yuki was going to thank him, but that was asking too much. He'd already sunk too low for his polished self-esteem. He nodded, setting his jaw firmly, and simply walked back to his car to drive off. Kyo was grateful. They'd already talked too much for his taste.

The dojo was as quiet as he expected. He dropped his backpack at the entrance, but it wouldn't stay there long. He moved aimlessly through his rooms, checking to see if everything was the way he left it. He hadn't really noticed while he lived alone how much he truly missed the familiar presence of her in the house. The different feel that came just from knowing that she was somewhere there. It had all come back alive to him last night as he heard her drawing her bath while the rice cooker whistled quietly to itself. There were good moments, Tohru, he thought as he stretched himself on his bedspread for a little rest after his long night and even longer morning. If only she could remember something good.

He hoped that she didn't travel often to the bridge. He hoped that it had been a special trip for the special purpose that he had prevented in shouting her name. She wouldn't be there again. What had made him tell Yuki about it anyway? Why would he want to share this special secret? He could go to see Tohru whenever he liked now, and finally he would not be interrupted by any of his relatives.

But that's wrong, he knew it. He'd told Yuki for the same reason he'd reached out for assistance from Hatori. Tohru loved them all. She didn't just miss him, and he knew that too. He had seen Tohru and Yuki together so often, and knew too that Yuki's softness had a more calming feel to it than his awkward attempts at comfort. Tohru needed help, and she would most likely need it from everyone. Besides, Yuki always knew just what to say. If he found her, he could bring her back to herself faster and easier than Kyo could. Kyo, who never knew what to say, or when he did know what to say never could say it the way he meant. Tohru usually got confused when he tried to talk to her, but she always had a soft smile for Yuki. He could draw out her courage and her drive to improve herself. Yuki could save her, if he found her. And that was the most important thing.

Kyo got up, fury driving out any thoughts he had of rest. Why did it have to be like this? What was he thinking? What was he thinking; Yuki could have all the answers? It was because of Yuki that they were all like this anyway. Obviously, the damn rat had no idea what he was doing. What if he did find her and ran away with her again? Kyo would never see her.

Who cares? He thought viciously. He always knew that they were meant for each other in the long run. The princess and Prince Charming. And so what? It wasn't like he could help her, not really. It wasn't like he had anything to offer. Yuki was the rat. Yuki had everything. And Kyo? Well, who cared anyway? He sure as hell didn't.

So long as she was happy.

"It was a little early for a drive, don't you think, Hatori?" Hatori swallowed hard with his back still turned away from the room. He was closing the door just after leaving Kyo. The voice was like an old injury to him now, though sometimes it ached more than others. This was going to be one of those times. When he turned to stand straight, he put every effort into keeping his face the calm mask that his relatives were most used to. Akito was there, as expected, draped in Hatori's office chair, turned around so he could rest his arms and head on the high back. He was wearing a turtleneck today with black slacks. It was what he wore when he knew he would be leaving the Main House. "I'm surprised you didn't invite me to go along."

"Why would I do that? I thought you were still sleeping."

Akito ignored the comment the way he ignored everything that didn't interest him. He stretched his finger back toward the desk, tracing the lines of sunlight that lie there. "What was so important that it would interrupt your work?" Akito's fingers moved from the sunlight over to where Hatori had left his teacup. He moved the tip around the rim in slow circles, the way large cats pace when they are building their energy for the pounce. It made Hatori slightly nervous, more so that he really did have something to hide.

"So what was it?" Akito asked again when Hatori didn't answer. "Where did you go?"

"Kyo stopped by," Hatori said, calmly. "One of his students, a Sohma, hurt their ankle in training this morning. He wanted me to take a look at it."

"Don't lie to me!" Akito moved with characteristic fury, seizing the teacup and throwing it violently at Hatori's chest. The now tepid liquid seeped into the thin fabric of Hatori's button up shirt. "Why do you think I'm stupid, Hatori? Have I not proven to you yet that I pay attention?"

Hatori's pulse had quickened, but he simply started taking off his coat so he could get himself a dry shirt.

"Keep it on, Hatori," Akito said as he relaxed his shoulders. The smile he wore was typical for the times when he knew he was going to get his way even though no one else was going to like it. "We're going to see Kyo."

"Let me get a clean shirt."

"No! You're going to keep it on because while we're driving you're going to tell me what Kyo was really doing here. It should help to remind you to tell the truth."

"What if I did tell you the truth?"

"Stop it. Don't talk to me like a child, Hatori. I know that Kyo's been in Hinoi for the past few days, and I know what else is in Hinoi too. It's too early for him to be doing any training, and you weren't gone long enough to have made it all the way to the dojo and back. Now get your keys. I have some questions I want to ask him, and I want to do it in person."

"All right," Hatori said, hoping he didn't sound patronizing. "I'm sorry, Akito-sama. I'll tell you the truth. What if we sat down here, calmly, and I told you everything? Then if you still felt the need to drive, then we would go."

Akito looked suspicious, his features settling into the familiar paranoid expression he wore when he expected insubordination from his family members. Hatori let him figure it out for a moment, stooping to pick up the unbroken teacup and setting it back into its place on his desk. He knew he had the upper hand, if only for the time being, and so he moved even farther away from the head of house and stripped off his wet shirt to exchange it.

"What is there to tell, Hatori?" Akito asked, his voice once again calm and liquid. Hatori smiled to himself on the inside, but kept his face slightly disappointed, as if he were upset at being found out. It pleased Akito; he could tell. So would the story he was going to feed him, and it calmed a piece of him to know that most of it was indeed true. The other part, the things he had every intention of lying about, made him pleased with himself too, because even though Kyo had accused him so harshly, he did want to protect Tohru.

"You're right. Kyo had business in Hinoi. There is going to be a dojo tournament there in a few weeks and he was meeting with the sensei to figure out the particulars."

"And?" Akito was looking suspicious again, but Hatori already knew he would. He would have to tell him at least a little if he were going to keep him here and not running after Tohru.

"And he found Tohru." Akito stood up so abruptly from the desk that Hatori was glad his teacup had already been emptied. "Calmly?" Hatori reminded him, relishing these moments when he was secretly in charge. "Nothing happened. He said she's cut her hair and lives alone. She remembers nothing. He saw her on a bridge."

"And he didn't speak to her?"

"He did. He offered to walk her home. She didn't know him, though he asked questions. It seems you've succeeded in your plans."

"But you said he will be there often in the next few weeks. What if he sees her again?"

"I've cautioned him against it."

"That means nothing. He's the cat. He doesn't follow orders just because they are given. And what about Yuki?"

"What about him?"

"He will know about this too. He will go to her if he can, because I have not accomplished my plans as you say. I thought that removing her from their lives forever would bring him back to me."

"He still has time. He wouldn't actually need to be with you until -"

"It's his place," Akito snarled. "And yours. You don't understand, but it doesn't matter provided she stays out of it. I need to make sure that they don't see her again. I want you to ensure it."

"How?"

"Move her. Kyo walked her home, so he knows where she lives. She'll have to be moved."

"But where? She has another life now. I gave her a new name, a job, a place –"

"She shouldn't have a place. I think you should bring her here." Akito's eyes were unfocused now as he was looking into the future where everything would work out his way.

"Akito, no," Hatori protested, shaking his head and not looking at his head of house. Things were not turning out the way he expected.

"What do you mean, no? You don't say no to me."

"It's a difficult thing to change a person's memory, especially hers. If I were to bring her here and have her remember things, it would be impossible to make her forget again."

"Then we have two choices," Akito's voice was soft. "Either you hide her convincingly enough that she doesn't remember, or we can simply make it so that it wouldn't matter what she knew." The insinuation drenched Hatori in cold. He certainly couldn't mean that.

"We've never done that before. You can't."

"Then make it so I don't have to. You didn't want me to go to Kyo, very well. I won't go. But you will go to Hinoi, and I want you to bring her back with you. She keeps getting in the way, and I can't have it."

"I'll talk to Kyo. I'll make sure he understands that he has to leave her alone."

"It's not Kyo I'm worried about!" Akito touched his wrist lightly, not looking at his dragon cousin. "He's already mine. But Yuki. Yuki will go after her. He won't be able to help it. And I will not allow that. Now do as I say, Hatori. I'll talk to you again when it's done."

"But why, Akito?" Hatori knew he was on very thin ice now, but just had to know why he was this passionate about something that mattered so little. There was no indication that Yuki would go after her, that he would even find out. And even if he did, what were the chances of the past repeating itself? "Wouldn't it be better to bring Yuki back here where we could keep an eye on him? That can be easily arranged."

"No," Akito said, his voice soft and far away. Hatori wondered what he was plotting. "You're right. Yuki still has time, and things didn't go as well as I hoped the last time I tried to force him to do something. No," he said again, shaking his head and staring at the empty teacup. "No, this time, Yuki will come to me."

"Akito, what - ?"

"Just do what I say, Hatori. That's all you should do."

With that, Akito stood from Hatori's desk, his shoulders thrown back in his accustomed authoritative manner. He didn't slam the door on his way out, but Hatori knew that it had been a struggle.

He sank into the chair Akito had just left and dropped his face into his hands. He knew he had to obey. All the Juunishi had no choice when it came to Akito. They all owed him their lives. He kept their biggest secret and kept at bay their biggest threat. It couldn't be helped. He would go tonight.

Kyo swore and dropped to the floor in a meditation pose. He just couldn't focus! He'd been trying to follow his morning routine for the past hour, but could not stop his brain racing away from any attempt at concentration. He kept seeing Tohru's unkempt apartment and her little orange cat. He kept hearing Hatori command him to just leave it all alone, and he could not quell the rage at himself for having told that damn rat where he might find Tohru.

His first mistake, he realized now, was leaving Tohru at all. What kind of idiot just abandoned that kind of opportunity? Why had he thought to tell Hatori? What could have made him think that the dragon would do anything to help her? He punched the floor without really realizing. He was so stupid! He'd ruined his chance. Hatori was just going to tell Akito everything that happened.

That thought brought him up short, his practice completely forgotten. What would Akito do if he knew? And what about Yuki? What if he found her? The more Kyo thought about the situation, the clearer his course of action became. What if he - ? He paused momentarily, both apprehensive and excited by the notion he had just come up with. Would it be possible? Did he have enough time? What if?

The cat jumped from the floor, sure now of what he was going to do. Tonight, he thought, as he hurried from the practice floor. I'll go tonight.


	3. Take Me Somewhere New

Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket and will not be compensated in any financial way for this work. But reviews are always welcome!

Chapter Three: Take Me Somewhere New

"So, Meeka, who's the guy?" Miki's voice was teasing as she pulled full plates off the counter and on to her serving tray. Meeka paused in her vegetable slicing to give her friend a curious gaze.

"What guy?" She asked, resuming her activity.

"Oh, come on. I haven't seen you this alive in months. It's like you just woke up. There has to be some reason, and I don't think it's because you got a new cat."

"There isn't a guy," Meeka protested, even as she felt her already warm cheeks grow hotter.

Their boss walked between them then, tapping an impatient finger on Miki's loaded tray. "Promise to tell me later, ok? I'll walk home with you."

Meeka watched her hands carefully after Miki had gone. She smiled to herself. There was a guy, and she was remembering more about him all the time. She hadn't figured out his real name, or how she'd met him before last night, but Niko had featured largely in her thoughts today. When she made a fist, she was sure it had been him who showed her how. The riceballs that she garnished with plums reminded her strongly of him. And even this morning when she had woken with Kyo on her blankets, she had looked at the curled up cat and felt a burst of affection so strong that she knew it had nothing to do with the little animal on her bed. She hadn't told her friend any of it because it was all so strange. What did you tell someone when you suddenly realize that your name is not the name she calls you, and for the past year you have been living in emptiness?

She had even caught herself humming as she prepared her customers' favorite dishes. She felt a particular pang of remembrance as she stirred a large pot of the soup of the day. Leeks. Miki winked at her throughout the remainder of the night, and even volunteered, though she hadn't for many weeks, to help with cleanup in the kitchen.

Meeka tried to keep her eyes focused on the dishes beneath her hands as she efficiently moved clean ones from the washer and replaced them for next afternoon's use. Miki waited, using her mop to shove other employees out of the kitchen so she and Meeka could be alone. As soon as their boss had locked the main doors and left them with a quick good-bye, Miki dropped the mop and rushed to Meeka's side.

"Come on, Meeka," Miki started immediately, taking plates from her hands as if it would force her to start talking. "Why don't I put this stuff away? You just talk. When did you meet him?"

"I don't know," Meeka replied honestly, and pondered briefly just how much she should tell her friend. It would sound so odd to someone who hadn't been there. She met him yesterday, but there was a longer history. He was a stranger, but still one of her best friends.

"Whatever, you don't know." Meeka prepared herself for further persuasion and teasing, but they were interrupted once more by their employer who had rejoined their company.

"Meeka," he said, glancing quickly about the kitchen as if checking on their progress. "There's a young man waiting for you outside. I'll take over for you."

Her soul jumped inside her even as she began to protest. Her boss' face was concerned, though, and he immediately held up his hand to silence her.

"He says it's an emergency, Meeka. Go ahead and go."

"I'll go with you," Miki offered quickly, but was denied by an offered mop.

"Sorry, Miki," Meeka said. "I promise I'll tell you everything tomorrow." With that, she grabbed her coat and hurriedly pushed her hands through the sleeves so she could grab the back door. She knew who was waiting for her, and wondered if there really were an emergency.

There was a strong urge to throw her arms around Niko's neck when she saw him leaning against the corner of the restaurant. His hands were plunged deep in his pockets, and he kept glancing around to the main street as if expecting someone to catch him any second.

"Hey," he whispered, holding out his hand to stop her as if he anticipated her to embrace him. He checked once more around the corner.

"What's going on?" she whispered back, wondering who he was expecting to come after him. "Is everything ok?"

His eyes widened, and again he checked the street. "Come on," he pulled her back down the alley, past the large dumpsters and into secluded darkness.

"Who are you?" She couldn't help but ask. It was her right to know anyway, if he was going to insist on dragging her down dark streets and being so secretive.

"I'm your friend," he said, seriously. "Now quit asking questions. I've got something important I need to talk to you about." He still held her hand, and she felt it tighten and relax in spurts as if Niko were very nervous and trying to hold it in check.

"What is it?" She replied, ready to hear him out. He knew what her dreams meant, after all, and could help her if she let him.

"Don't go home tonight, all right? Do you have somewhere else you could stay? I'd take you home with me, but they would know and find you. I need you –"

"Who would find me?" She broke in, thinking immediately of the dark eyed man who had happily been absent from her thoughts so long as Niko had remained in them.

"Don't worry about it," he countered, still pressing her hand every few seconds. "We're going to leave Hinoi, you and I, together, but I need tomorrow to get it all set up and that might be too long if they find out where you are."

"But," Meeka protested, unsure. "Where are we going? You haven't even told me who you are."

"But you know I won't hurt you," he responded, his breath curling up around his earnest face. "And that's more than I can say for them."

"If I do go with you, I'll have to go home first. I'll need to pack some things at least, and make sure my cat's all right."

"No," Niko hissed, clenching her hand almost too hard. "Don't go back there for anything, do you understand? I'll come get you tomorrow, right here. But for heaven's sake, don't go wandering around like you do by yourself. It's going to be ok, and I'll explain everything later, but I just need you to trust me for right now."

"I don't understand," she finally said.

"Meeka," he breathed, his eyes pleading and tender. She felt a tear slide down her cheek because of the wonderful, yet incomplete, feeling her name welled up inside of her. "You will, but please, do what I say."

"You know me," she said at last, feeling a rushing inside her. She remembered seeing his eyes, just that way, once before. She pulled her hand out of his and, hesitating slightly, pulled his hood from his bright orange hair. The same orange as her cat's. He turned his face away from her, overcome with secret emotion, and just like that, upon viewing his profile, images jumped into her consciousness of seeing that same profile dozens of times before.

She looked at his hands and remembered them clutching grocery bags as they walked home together after shopping. She looked at the brown coat and remembered hanging it up to dry herself after laundering it.

"Kyo," she finally muttered, and his eyes widened again in surprise. "Not Niko," she continued, feeling so full of memory that it was difficult to speak. An image of an orange cat, not hers, overflowed inside her, and she remembered carrying it through woods and dark. "Neko," she concluded, and Kyo moved even farther away from her.

"I know you," she told him, surprised at the fear in his eyes as she said it. "We went to school together." She had to say this, afraid that if she did not speak then the rapid images that were going through her mind would disappear behind a barrier again, never to return. "We. . ." she paused, unsure how to interpret the scene in her head of sitting at a table for breakfast with Kyo and two others. "We lived together?"

"Yes," her companion muttered tiredly, as if he had just lost a fight. Yet he sounded relieved too. "We did." Meeka thought harder, but couldn't force anything else to come to her. The two others at the table were people she didn't recognize, though they were familiar somehow. She pushed her thoughts to the edge, but they broke off in a feeling of sorrow and panic. There was no bridge to how she had gone from that breakfast table to her apartment.

"What happened?" She put the exhausted question to him. She had asked herself so many times and come up with nothing. But he must know. His eyes told her that he did. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," he said, looking uncomfortable and irritated. "It wasn't your fault."

"But –" she needed to know more. She was so close to remembering!

"I can't tell you right now, but I will. Give me the keys to your apartment; I'll pack your things for you. Come on," he said, harshly, but even the tone made her smile on the inside because of its familiarity even though it was clear that he would not be answering her deepest questions. "I'll take you back inside."

"I'll do what you ask," she told him, fishing her key ring from her pocket and coming to walk by his side as they returned to the door of the restaurant. "I'll meet you here tomorrow."

"Good," he said, relieved. He moved her keys into his own pocket and vanished back into the dark without meeting her eyes again, pulling her from the alley and toward the restaurant door. His elusiveness no longer bothered her. He was going to return and take her away. It didn't really matter where, she knew, because this was how her heart had always wanted it, even though she was sure that she'd only just realized it.

There was a slight fear pricking her too, not just about his cautions against going home, even to pack a few clothes. Something told her that this scenario was all too familiar. It wasn't Kyo, her blood warmed as she thought of the name, that had asked her the last time to come away with him. It had been another young man. She could feel his hands in hers, soft and trembling, but couldn't see his face. He had wanted to take her away too.

The lights were still on in the restaurant kitchens, so Meeka knew they hadn't been talking long enough for the place to be cleaned up. Miki would still be inside. She wondered how she would take the request for a sudden slumber party.

"I'll come get you tomorrow," Kyo promised again, not looking directly at her face. He opened the door for her and then hurried off around the corner, hunching up his shoulders and replacing his hood.

Miki looked busy and worried at the same time as she rushed through the evening chores. Meeka watched her for a moment before fully returning, feeling amused. She knew that Miki was hurrying just in case she could catch up with Meeka before she really left.

"Miki," she began, walking into the room and returning to the dishes. Their boss was no where in sight. Miki almost dropped her mop, but when she saw it was Meeka, she tucked it upright into a corner.

"What is going on?" She demanded immediately, her mouth set. "Is something wrong?"

"Not really," Meeka responded slowly, trying to think of how to explain her meeting. "But it looks like I can't go home tonight."

"What for?" Miki's deep black eyes were huge. "Did something happen?"

Meeka debated about lying and finally gave in. "It's a really long story."

"Well then let's hurry and clean up so we'll have time for a long story."

The friends went through their normal shut down routine and walked together to the bus stop where Miki usually caught her ride home. She lived across the city, in a different apartment in a slightly poorer part of town. Meeka asked her repeatedly on the way if she was certain that she didn't mind her intruding.

"Your boyfriend won't be there tonight?"

"No," Miki laughed. "I threw him out last week. It just wasn't working. Honestly, Meeka, don't you listen when I talk to you?"

Meeka blushed, not remembering Miki telling her about her recent break up. Of course, a few nights ago she hadn't really been focused on anything around her except for the blackness of the water passing beneath the bridge.

"Whoever that guy is," Miki continued. "I'm really glad you found him."

"Why's that?" Meeka asked, concentrating on the passing lights as the bus drove on in the dark. She was grateful that Miki wasn't asking the really hard questions yet, so she was willing to go with whatever tangent that came along.

"I was getting pretty worried about you. It was more than you weren't yourself. It was like you didn't know who you were at all."

"I didn't," Meeka admitted, feeling a slight pressure in her chest. Miki's words prompted her to continue with a question. "Was I like that when you first met me?"

"Of course not, but even then you weren't like this." Miki furrowed her brow for a moment as she remembered. "I remember you just showing up for work one day like you had always done it. You didn't answer many questions about yourself. You couldn't even tell me the name of the street where you moved from, even though you kept telling everyone that you had just moved to the south side of the city. It was like you were reading lines off a script or something. And for the longest time you wouldn't answer to your name. Anytime someone talked to you they'd have to call Meeka three or four times before you'd respond. We were all starting to think you were a little slow even though the boss kept saying that you came with impeccable references."

Meeka thought about that and another revelation came to her. She didn't remember being called more than once back in those beginning days when everything came in through her senses as if through deep fog or dark water. She remembered her spirit thrilling with more than nerves when Kyo called that name on the bridge. She had thought about it last night, when she was too overwhelmed with feelings to sort it properly. She was still quite overwhelmed, but when Miki told her about her refusal to respond to that name, it all made perfect sense.

Tohru hesitated, then knew that she really did want Miki to know everything. "That's because Meeka isn't really my name," she confessed quietly, still looking out the window as if to downplay the shocking news.

The bus stopped and the doors screeched open. Miki didn't look as if she were going to move, even though it was the proper place to get off. Tohru tugged her friend's coat and practically dragged her off the vehicle.

"What do you mean?" Miki began as if she'd never been struck mute. They started to walk the two blocks to Miki's apartment. "Meeka isn't your name?"

"My name is Tohru," Tohru confessed. "But I only just remembered it last night."

"You couldn't remember?" Miki now looked as if she'd never seen Tohru before. "How do you forget your name?"

That's where Tohru couldn't answer. She didn't really know why she'd forgotten, but she suspected that her dream with Hatori and Akito might have really happened. It involved a very important secret, too important to tell Miki, even if she did need to talk it out to help her understand it herself.

"Let's wait until we get inside," Tohru said, thinking she'd have time to sort her thoughts by the time they got there. Miki shrugged, her mouth starting to show a little bit of irritation. But her eyes said she was quite ready for a good story.

She managed to contain herself all the way into the apartment and right up until both of them were snuggled under her heated blanket with tea in their hands. Tohru worried that maybe Miki might be angry with her, or even worse, that she wouldn't believe her. In some ways, though, Tohru was glad that Miki was waiting for her to start. She had to think how this was going to sound. What parts should she tell? What parts could she remember?

All the way to the apartment, she kept seeing new things, hearing pieces of conversations that she was sure had really happened. She knew that when Kyo had told her that they would be running away together that it wasn't the first time that news had been sprung on her. There was a small pain in her throat and chest as she struggled to remember more. Obviously, this was a significant part of her spirit, and her body hurt even as it embraced.

"So," Miki began, apparently trying to keep her vibrant curiosity in check. "Now that we're here for a girls' night in, I think it's time for you to share."

"Thank you," Tohru said. "For letting me stay here."

"It's fine, but I am expecting one hell of a story as payment. For starters, how did you get here thinking your name was Meeka in the first place?"

"I don't really know," Tohru answered honestly. That part hadn't really come to focus yet. The last thing she remembered out of the hazy pieces that she had somehow guessed into a feeble timeline was Hatori putting his hand on her head in that room she had seen before in her dream.

"Then how do you know that your name is," Miki paused, unused to thinking of her friend as anyone other than Meeka. "What is your name again?"

"Tohru," she answered promptly, and the rightness helped to dissipate the tightness. "Tohru Honda." Miki nodded, even though the name had no significance to her.

"I used to live in Tokyo," Tohru continued, talking more for herself now instead of for Miki. "My father died when I was too young to remember him, and my mother and I lived alone. I promised her I would finish high school, because she never did. I remember her dying in a car accident."

Miki sipped her tea, a difficult expression on her face. She knew that it would be best not to interrupt, even through some of the details that Meeka had once told her already about her life.

"I moved in with my grandfather, on my father's side, but he was remodeling the house and needed me to find somewhere else for a few months. I decided to live in a tent."

Tohru heard Miki choke a bit on the tea, but it was distant. She was seeing her tent, in Tokyo, an old and distant pain. "I had put it up on someone's property, and it was destroyed in a land slide. But the family took me in as their housekeeper, but it was better than that."

She continued long into the night, talking about the life she had shared with Shigure, Kyo, and Yuki. The other names of her companions came to her as she spoke, as if she had never forgotten them at all. She talked about their trip to the day spa, and Kyo's hate of miso. She kept to herself the secret parts because even after what had been done to her, she was a creature of her word. She smiled at the memory of the little orange cat curled in her arms and the small rat on her shoulder, but spoke instead about Kagura and Hatori and Momiji.

"So why did you leave?" Miki finally broke in to ask. "If it was all so great, what happened?"

Tohru had to focus on that. She couldn't really remember what happened. There was that room, and that black voice, and Hatori's hand in her hair. She could see vividly her tears spotting the floor, flickering back candlelight in the dimness. She could feel that there were two other people in the room, ones that she couldn't bear to look at.

Then there was her first day at work, and meeting Miki. She walked back to her apartment every day like she had always done it, even though it started to wear on her. It started to empty her until everything she did was numb and cold. She missed things, but she didn't know what. Like someone who was lost even though they were unsure of their destination to start with.

"I don't know," she finally answered her friend's question.

"And why did your friend all of a sudden come back? Which one is he, by the way?"

"That's Kyo," Tohru sighed his name.

"Isn't that your cat's name?"

Yeah," Tohru laughed a little. "I guess when I lost my memories, I didn't lose them all. Kyo has always been special. He always took care of me, in his own way."

"Sounds like," Miki huffed, and Tohru finally heard the note of displeasure in her tone. It made her look up to find Miki perched away from the table, empty cup before her. "Don't look at me like that. It sounds like they've really messed you up. They take you in, they make you their housekeeper, you guys have some fun, and then they dump you on some doorstep in another city. And you can't even remember what happened or why you called yourself Meeka?"

"Something went wrong," Tohru continued, knowing that it hadn't been Kyo's fault. It hadn't been anyone's fault. She had known when it all started that it would happen someday.

"That's crap, Meeka," Miki said, forgetting. "And now he just shows up out of the blue? And what was his emergency anyway? Why does he need you now?"

"He didn't show up looking for me," Tohru said, remembering when she had met Kyo on the bridge. "He found me by accident when I was on the bridge. He walked me home. He never said who he was."

"And what were you doing on the bridge?"

"Walking home." The challenge in Miki's voice was closing in the emptiness again. Tohru stared at the floor directly in front of her, wishing again for things that she didn't deserve.

Tohru felt Miki's arms around her shoulders and felt her cheek pressed against her back. "I'm sorry, Meeka. I haven't been a good friend lately. I knew you were unhappy, but I didn't know what to do about it."

"It's not your fault," Tohru said, her voice strong again. "What were you supposed to do?"

"You just kept pulling into yourself. I couldn't get you to talk to me. Today, when you were smiling again, I was really happy for you. I was glad that you were maybe coming out of it, but now that I've heard a little bit more, it makes me afraid."

"Of what?" Tohru looked at the matching teacups on the table as if to find hints for the future.

"Of the stuff you can't remember. What did Kyo tell you tonight? What was his emergency? Why can't you go home?"

This wasn't solid ground for discussion. Tohru still stared intently at the empty teacup on the table, feeling the warmth of the blanket on her legs. This part was hard to remember. There were fuzzy bits and other spots that remained completely locked. The way her body responded to the question made her wonder if her mind truly wanted her to forget.

"The Sohmas are a remarkable family," she finally answered, feeling tears swell in her voice. "You have to believe me that most of them are the kindest, gentlest, warmest people I have ever met." Miki moved again, pulling away from Tohru to study her face. Tohru couldn't read her expression. "There was a reason that they had to send me away."

"But they were your friends."

"Not all of them were my friends. I never got to know the head of the household very well. I don't imagine that he cared for me much at all. In fact, I knew when I moved in the very first day that I may one day have to leave."

She could feel Hatori's hand again and when she opened her eyes she no longer looked at the teacup. The candlelight was on the hard wood floor. Akito was speaking of her example and disobedience. His words would be heeded at high cost.

"I just don't understand," Miki shook her head as she spoke. "You're leaving something out. Why would they just abandon you? And why are you just allowing Kyo back in your life when he left you with the rest?"

"It wasn't Kyo," Tohru said, sharper than she meant. "I'm sorry," she apologized immediately, confused at her defensiveness for him. "But he didn't know. It wasn't his fault."

"You keep saying that, but whose fault was it? What could you possibly have done? And why can't you remember?"

Tohru tried to focus, remembering the last expression on Kyo's face before she had been taken into Akito's presence. It was rage-streaked sorrow. He'd been so angry, but only partially at Akito.

"This is all really mysterious," Miki was saying, half to herself while Tohru thought. "What if they are all involved in something criminal and you found out about it? They say sometimes when you've been involved in something traumatic that you can't always remember what happened to you. I know my grandpa could never talk about the War for as long as he was alive because of the things that he saw." Miki suddenly gasped, her flair for the dramatic springing to life in full force.

"What if you found out about something they were trying to hide? What if they tried to hurt you over it? But you escaped and came here with a new name and a new story. Then after a while you couldn't remember what really happened as some sort of protection."

Tohru smiled at her friend. She didn't know how close to the truth she was. "And now they know where you are because Kyo found you by accident. Is that it? Is Kyo making you stay away from your apartment because he's afraid that his family will come and get you?"

"Something like that," Tohru admitted weakly, hoping that Miki would stay involved in making up the story herself to relieve Tohru the burden of trying to explain without revealing too much.

"We should call the police!" Miki squeaked, rising from the floor.

"No," Tohru cried. "That's not a good idea. I've just got to trust Kyo."

"How do you know he's not helping them?"

"He's just not."

"Still –" Miki moved to her front door and drew the deadbolt. "I would feel safer."

"It's after midnight," Tohru said, taking her teacup and Miki's into her hands to set them in the kitchen sink. "Why don't we try to get some sleep? When Kyo comes to get me tomorrow, maybe we can ask him some more questions."

Miki raised an eyebrow. "He's coming to get you? When? What for?"

Tohru blushed. "He said we were leaving to go somewhere that they can't find me."

"That would be really romantic except for the part where someone's trying to kill you."

"Kill me?" Tohru squawked, forgetting that Miki was engrossed in her fantasy explanation.

"Why else wouldn't it be safe for you to go home?"

By this time, Tohru was uncomfortable. She wanted to talk. She wanted to tell everything she knew from the beginning to the end. She wanted to talk about Kyo and how she had carried him home one evening after a rainstorm. She wanted to explain how she could love someone so hard after abandonment. Because it wasn't their fault. And yet, even if she could say all these things, Miki's question would remain unanswered. Why, if they loved her so much, had they given up on her so easily? What could she possibly have done? Why had they taken her memories and left her in another city without knowing anyone including herself? She felt as though she had failed them, and now she was afraid of them. She had done her very best to keep their secret, was still keeping it even though Akito had not kept his end of the bargain. Her loyalty would never let her give it up. Of course that would seem silly to Miki, who processed logically even when she was prone to drama.

"Oh forget it," Miki finally sighed. Tohru could hear the disappointment in that sigh, and her body ached to be able to fix it for her friend. She couldn't stand for anyone to be disappointed in her. "If you can't say, then you can't say," her tone made it quite clear that she would be ready to listen in case Tohru changed her mind. "And you're right. It is late. Why don't we get some sleep? Unless you think someone might come here?"

"No," Tohru said, sure that no one would know where to find her here. Look at how long it had taken for Kyo to stumble on her accidentally. "I don't think they know where you live, and I didn't notice anyone following us."

"Ok then."

Tohru's little orange cat curled around Kyo's legs as he entered the apartment, Tohru's borrowed keys in his hands. He stepped deftly through the entryway to avoid stepping on the animal who was delighted that someone had finally come home. While Kyo flipped on the kitchen light, he noticed that the cat's bowl was empty. No wonder he was so excited to see someone.

Kyo filled the bowl with food he found in the pantry and then returned to his original mission. He had warned Tohru not to come here for any reason, but she would need some things if she were to come away with him. He searched her closet until he found a plain brown suitcase. This he opened onto her bed and began packing it as tightly as possible with whatever came to his hands first. He packed her toothbrush and towel, her favorite dresses and an extra pair of shoes.

He left her yellow hair ribbon tied to her bedpost.

It didn't take him very long to snap the suitcase closed, having done his best to make sure she wouldn't want for anything. His fingers held the handle tightly as his mind raced quickly through things he might have forgotten. Then it switched just as quickly to Yuki who had held this very same suitcase a little over a year ago.

A little over a year ago when he was the one taking Tohru away with him forever. Kyo stared hard at the hair ribbon, wishing it would burst into flames. He wondered what he'd said to her, how he'd convinced her to go with him without telling anyone. A shudder of anxiety drenched Kyo for a moment when he remembered that Yuki had failed. Hatori was waiting at the train station. He brought them both home and ripped Tohru out of their lives at Akito's order. Tohru was taken because Yuki was selfish. Kyo's eyes darkened in rage and he almost felt the beads pulse on his wrist.

It won't be that way, Kyo told himself firmly. Yuki was stupid. He never could do anything on his own. We're going to make it. Because Yuki doesn't care about her the same way. It's going to be easy. They won't know where to look for me, and who would care if I'm gone anyway?

The cat meowed suddenly in the kitchen just as the lights went out in the entryway. Kyo's hand slipped from the handle just to clench into a prepared fist. He lowered his center of gravity as much as he could, pulling himself in the way only felines can. He turned his body slowly, already knowing that there would be a shadow in the doorway. He had hoped to be gone before the one coming for Tohru actually showed up.

"Kyo, what a surprise," said an amused voice, causing Kyo to realize that there were two shadows. So, he thought bitterly. Akito had come himself this time. "We were expecting to find Miss Honda."

Hatori and Akito entered the room. While Akito remained in front of Kyo, Hatori circled around behind him, tapping Tohru's suitcase without a word.

"I see," Akito snickered. "That plan again? Shame on you."

"Just leave her alone," Kyo snapped. "She's not even here."

"No, but you are," Akito's voice lost the amused tone and hardened. "Why? Why would you disobey me?" Kyo's muscles tightened in preparation. "I think you should come home with us. I think you've been enjoying a little too much freedom than is good for you. It's time for you to take your rightful place at the Sohma house."

Before Kyo could move, Hatori struck from behind grabbing Kyo's arm and deftly inserting a syringe into it. Kyo knew where he would be taken. He'd been dreading it since Yuki and he had graduated middle school. Akito had always told him that he would be imprisoned upon graduation. Because Yuki would take Akito's place, and Yuki was younger than Kyo. He hadn't really thought much about it, because so much of what Akito told him about being the cat, being the monster, didn't really make sense. But now as Hatori quickly bound his hands behind him, slipped a gag into his mouth, and whispered an apology in his ear it all came back quickly. He had failed her. He hadn't been able to do anything. And now he would be taken. There would be no way to warn her. There would be no explanation he could send as to why he would not be there tomorrow to pick her up as he had said. There would be nothing for Kyo except the neko room.


	4. I Thought That You'd Be Here By Now

**Chapter Four: I Thought That You'd Be Here By Now**

"Not yet," Miki said as she shook her head, setting her platter of dirty dishes on the counter next to Tohru, who smiled guiltily. As a cook, she never was able to go out into the main part of the restaurant, so she had to rely on Miki to let her know when Kyo had arrived. He didn't say what time he would be there, exactly, so she had been eager and anxious from the moment she unlocked the front doors a little before lunchtime. There had been a rush of patrons after the first half hour or so that kept Tohru engaged in her job, but now that it was the middle of the afternoon and few customers, her mind had time to wonder where her friend was at regular intervals. She'd probably asked Miki for an update every three minutes or so. It was no wonder she had started answering the question before Tohru had asked it.

"Do you think he's all right?" was the next question. Miki could only shrug for that one.

"From what you've told me," she said as she restacked her platter with water glasses. "It sounds like anything could be going on." Then she saw the worried look on Tohru's face and quickly added, "I'm sure he'll be here soon."

Then she disappeared out the door again while Tohru attempted to return to concentrating on sauce she was making. Even though she reminded herself that worrying wouldn't make things happen any faster, her ears still strained for the bell at the entryway as if she would somehow know which ring was him.

What if he didn't come to the front doors? She'd asked herself this before too, and it usually took her outside to the dumpsters on some pretence to make sure that he wasn't crouched against the building, waiting for her. She was sure he would come in to get her. Maybe he just needed to wait until the coast was clear before he made any kind of move. Maybe Akito was suspicious and watching him closely? Maybe she'd have to spend another night at Miki's while he made his preparations.

When she thought of preparations, she became almost too excited to work at all. What sort of preparations? Where would they go? It was too much for her, yet her spirit sang with pleasure when she briefly touched on the possibility.

There was also fear, and this would usually bring her back to reality in a harsh leap. What if they were discovered? What if something went wrong? Hadn't it before? The deepest part of her memory, the part that still remained hidden after all she had gained, trembled at the idea of running away with a Sohma. Her tears reflected candles on a wood floor, and Akito's red kimono swept in front of her vision. Then her mind closed down, unwilling to recall further.

She was setting out clean dishes for the upcoming dinner crowd when Miki hurried into the kitchen, her cheeks suddenly flushed and her eyes bright. Tohru's throat closed in on itself a little, and she forced herself to take a deep breath.

"He's here!" Miki gushed, grabbing Tohru's hands and squeezing them. "He's asked for you."

Icy calm drenched Tohru even as hot panic shook her nerves. She knew she would go. There had never been any question that she wouldn't obey any request that he made of her. Miki noticed her hesitation. But the fear would not be silenced.

"I'm happy for you," she said, still holding Tohru's hands tightly as if she could sense that Tohru would fall right over if she didn't. "Call me when you get where ever it is that you're going, ok?"

"Of course I will," Tohru promised in a voice that wasn't quite hers somehow. She took her hands carefully from her friend's and wiped them reflexively down her apron. She then took it off and hung it on its proper hook. She felt a pang momentarily for abandoning the restaurant, but the feeling was so small in the midst of the torrent of other feelings she was experiencing that it didn't slow her down. Besides, she had written down her most popular recipes and had left a letter for her boss. Miki had told her that she showed up at the restaurant one day as if she had always worked there. She was going to leave just as abruptly. She took her coat from the break room and then slowly made her way to the seating area, pausing at the doors to look at Miki.

"He's waiting at the front door," Miki told her, still smiling encouragingly.

Tohru kept her eyes on the floor as she made her way through the restaurant. The lights were on over the tables as the sun was setting outside. The entryway windows were still flashing with the fading sun, streaking the floor in streams, but Tohru could see his silhouette seated where any regular customer would sit should the restaurant not have any available tables. He held a newspaper awkwardly in front of his face.

Tohru smiled at his attempt to remain secretive. He was trying so hard for her. He wanted to take her away, to keep her with him, to make sure that the noises she had been missing so hard were never silent again. It would be safe.

But when she reached his side the newspaper snapped down as his right hand snapped out and clamped hard on her wrist. Her mouth opened, but she knew that her throat was too tight for any sound to come out. Miki was in the kitchen, unaware that she had brought Tohru out for the wrong Sohma. The other customers in the establishment would never guess that there was anything ominous about the meeting.

For one second, Tohru considered throwing herself into the man's arms. It would render him helpless and she could make her escape. But in the second where she wondered if the poof of smoke caused by the transition would be noticed at any table, the man had stood up and twisted her arm behind her back. He was not rough, but he was firm. There would be no way for her to break free now.

"Calmly, Meeka," a familiar voice whispered in her ear. Her body trembled and tears welled up in her eyes. Why hadn't she told Miki that Kyo had orange hair? There was no way she could have known her mistake. "The car is right outside," Hatori continued gently. "Akito is waiting for you."

Tohru kept her eyes firmly fixed on her hands as if that could do anything to keep them steady. Her stomach was clenched so hard inside of her that she had to think every few seconds to put her heels back on the floor of Hatori's car. She could feel Akito's black eyes staring at the side of her face. He was turned toward her, one knee on the seat, his arm resting along the back so he could just touch her hair with one finger if he stretched it out. Right now, his arm was bent so he could rest his head on the back of his hand. There was a small smile on his face, as if the sight of her was a much anticipated treat that he couldn't get enough of. Tohru clenched her eyes shut, but knew that when she opened them the scene would not change. This time she wouldn't wake up in her bed at her apartment. The black eyes would not go away.

"When are you going to learn?" Akito purred, then chuckled to himself. "These ridiculous little plans of yours to run away with my family." He clicked his tongue. "They just don't work. And do you know why they don't work?" He leaned close to her; she could feel his breath on her neck and felt her skin react by breaking into goosebumps. She couldn't answer him. She heard herself make a little squeaking noise, but there was no way she could unglue her lips to talk. She couldn't lift her eyes to look at him. She couldn't undo the tension in her fingers to make them unclasp, and she could not wake up.

"You will never run away with anyone," Akito continued. "Because your fates are all tied to mine now. Even yours. Especially yours. Do you know what I'd like to do with you?"

She made the strange squeaking noise again.

"I suspect you do, but don't worry so much. Hatori has talked me out of that plan. Instead, we're going to bring you back into the family you've apparently missed so much. In fact, I have a place for you in the main house this time. Hatori has made it up special, just for you."

He continued talking, but Tohru's mind shut down enough to spare her his actual words. Her thoughts were racing now, and she focused on Hatori's face, which she could just see one eye of in the rear view mirror. It was the eye that had no sight. Surely Hatori wouldn't hurt her? Not really? He'd obviously talked Akito out of some horrible future for her, but she wondered what was still in store. Akito could do plenty to her without actually harming her. And what would he do to Kyo now that he had found out what he'd been intending to do? Why hadn't she told Miki more about Kyo?

By the time they reached the main house, Tohru's insides were too exhausted to squirm anymore. Everything had quieted down into a leaden nothing. Hatori had to take her arm to pull her physically from the car since all of her senses had shut down completely. There was nothing in her character that was prepared to deal with this. Her husk of thoughts were not equipped to run, talk back, or even beg. Akito smiled at her one last time, then muttered something about going to find Kyo to continue the punishment that he had begun with bringing her to the Sohma residence. Hatori guided her without speaking down the back of several buildings and then into one at a far corner. The building was not Japanese in style; the walls were not paper, but wood all the way around. There was a Western style door that opened inward to reveal a room with one window.

It was nothing like what Tohru was expecting. She remembered being told once by Yuki of a special dark room where Akito did his worst. By comparison, this room was almost cozy. It appeared that Hatori had brought her furniture from her old room at Shigure's. Her bed was there in the corner, and her dresser and table. The mirror was gone, but everything else seemed the same. There were books on the table, paper and pens too. Her suitcase from her old apartment sat on the edge of the bed, for all the world looking as though she had expected to move in for a holiday visit.

"I don't understand," she whispered at last, standing just inside the door. Hatori sighed behind her.

"I do Akito's bidding in my own way," he explained. "Seeing as you may be here for a while."

"I'm sorry," Tohru continued, feeling her lips and knees trembling at the same time.

"As am I," Hatori continued in a tight voice. "But with luck, you will be released soon."

Tohru thought about that. What did he mean, released? Would he take her memory again and leave her in some other town in some other empty apartment? And Akito hadn't sounded like he was meaning to just let her stay in this pretty room unharmed and unmolested either. What did he mean to do with her now that she was his to play with? How often would he stop by just because he was in a bad mood? How was she to sleep in that bed knowing at any moment she would feel his weight at the side of it?

"What about Kyo?" Tohru asked instead of continuing her ideas of how her time would be spent in dread in this prison. "What's going to happen to him? Where is he?"

"He's here, like you," was all Hatori would say before continuing. "Now, Akito wants you to write to the restaurant. He wants you to tell them that you're to leave for America with Kyo. That you've eloped. He wants to be sure that they won't be worrying about you. I'll be back tomorrow to pick that up from you, and then you'll have to let me know your decision."

"My decision?"

Hatori moved away from the door. He pulled her over to the bed, gently pushed her down onto it, then knelt in front of her. He took her hands in his own, tender now, and Tohru could see in his eyes the man that she remembered from her happy times with the Sohmas.

"What do you remember, Meeka?" Hatori asked softly, genuine concern on his face.

"That my name isn't Meeka," she answered, unsure about the question. "That you and I used to worry a lot about the future of your family. I remember a wood floor and candles and your hand on my head."

Hatori put his hand there again, stroking her short hair with two of his fingers.

"I'm sorry, Tohru. I can't even explain to you why that had to happen, but I can do something else for you. With your permission this time."

"I don't understand," Tohru said, perhaps unwilling to think about what he might be offering her.

"This doesn't have to be awful, Tohru. It is within my power to give you whatever memories you wish. After you've done as Akito asked, I can make you remember your days here as if you were surrounded by those you love. I can also make every day you wake here seem like your very first. I can make you forget everything, if you wish. I'll take that pain for you, but I won't do it unless you want me to. You can let me know tomorrow how you want to spend your time here."

"It's good that you are so loyal to Akito," Tohru murmured, seeing as that was the only positive thing she could think to say to him about her predicament. She didn't want him to tamper with her memory anymore. She didn't want to lose things she had just gained. She wanted to continue to break into the secret parts that he had sealed tighter than the others. "He must trust you a lot."

Hatori didn't seem to know what to do with these words. He patted her hand comfortingly, told her that she could unpack her suitcase and rearrange things as pleased her. He said that he would be her only visitor besides Akito himself, but that he, Hatori, would do his best to make sure that she was never alone with him. No one else would know she was there. The little building had everything she needed to live alone.

Then he left her to look about herself. The window was tightly sealed, with tiny panes of glass set in heavy steel. It was the only window, even though a little inspection of the building revealed a tiny bathroom with a bathtub, shower, toilet, and sink and on the side of the room that she hadn't seen because she was looking at the bed, there was a small kitchen complete with rice cooker, oven, refrigerator, and teapot. There was food in the fridge and cupboards so she could take care of herself while she was there. She assumed that Hatori would resupply her as long as she needed him to.

But the fact remained that she was still a prisoner, no matter how comfortable. She pulled her suitcase from the bed so that it spilled its contents all over the floor. She tried to kneel and tidy it up, but found that she was trembling too hard to fold her clothes. Instead she turned down the covers of her old bed, kicked off her shoes, and then climbed underneath, fully clothed, and shut her eyes tightly, wishing that she could wake up with the bed returned to its proper room in Shigure's house. When she woke up, nothing unusual would have happened. It would still be a year ago, and she would wake and make tea that would be ready when the rest of the household started waking up and stumbling into the kitchen, eager for breakfast and her smile. It was going to be all right.

When Kyo opened his eyes, he knew exactly where he was and his soul sank in despair. He had lived in dread of this place for as long as he could remember. Akito had made a bet with him that if he could beat Yuki in a fight just once before graduation that he would not be imprisoned here. Kyo smiled a bitter smile, finally understanding that this promise had been empty. Akito knew he would never beat Yuki. Akito knew that it wouldn't matter if he had. Kyo twisted the beads on his wrist habitually as he stared out of the bars that held him prisoner. He wondered what Tohru was doing right then. Was she at work? Would they leave her alone now that he was no longer a threat to anyone's plan? Yuki would never find her, that was certain. There was really no reason to bother her where she was. Perhaps she would be ok. Maybe her friend wouldn't let her out of her sight, now that Tohru had told her a little of what was going on. But what if Tohru hadn't told her anything? She did have a habit of not mentioning her problems when she thought that they might inconvenience others. What if she had kept quiet and then Akito had taken her captive too?

Kyo slammed his fist against the heavy wood of his new home. He'd been too cocky, thinking he could succeed where Yuki had failed. Of course they couldn't let him have that happiness. They all ignored him as much as they could, left him out of all their little gatherings and decisions. But when he decided that he needed them as much as they appeared to need him, they reacted in violence and took everything away. He hated them. Every single one of them. He punched the wall again, feeling slightly better. The beads seemed to shimmer in the moonlight as he continued to rage inside the neko room, shouting even though no one could hear him, kicking and punching and hissing as only a trapped feline can do. He would settle down into making a plan later, but first he needed to rush through his torment. His wrist burned where the beads touched him.

And somewhere on the Sohma grounds, Akito twisted and writhed on his bed, knowing that this agony had been expected all day, yet he was unprepared as usual for its stunning debilitation. Hatori was near by, as always, gently soothing his master. He placed a cool cloth on Akito's burning forehead and shot some drugs into his veins that would allow him the rest he needed to keep his demons at bay. And for the first time Hatori wondered if he were really doing the right thing.

"Where have you been?" Shigure asked the shadow in the hallway from his cozy spot in his office. When he didn't receive an immediate answer, he took his reading glasses from his nose, placed them carefully by his computer where he wouldn't lose them, and followed his cousin's footsteps into the kitchen.

Yuki stood in front of the refrigerator with the door wide open, staring vacantly in. Shigure could tell from the look on his face that the thing he was hungry for wasn't going to be in there. After a few silent moments, Yuki shut the door, took a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. Shigure let him drink half of it before he asked again.

"Where did you say you went?"

"I didn't," Yuki said coldly, but softened immediately when Shigure looked at him. "I went to Hinoi, if you really need to know."

"Hinoi?" Shigure asked, more to himself than to Yuki. That town was north, not very far, but there wasn't anything in Hinoi that wouldn't be in Tokyo. Unless . . .

"Did you find her?"

Yuki tossed the remains of his cup violently into the sink. He barely stopped himself from slamming the mug when he put it on the counter. "Do you think I'd be here if I had?"

"That's good," Shigure said, his heart rate returning to normal. With all that had happened, it would be disastrous for Yuki to meet up with Tohru now. He'd heard that Hiro's mother was showing all the signs of an early labor, and that could only mean one thing for a Sohma.

"No, it's not," Yuki countered, bringing Shigure back to the conversation. "It means he's taken her."

This threw the dog completely off. "Taken? What?"

"Kyo!" Yuki hissed, his hands clenching to fists without him realizing. "It means that he told me he saw her on the bridge to put me off, but then went back and stole her away."

Shigure pondered what he could say to this without getting any of his doors destroyed. He thought his cousin might be giving Kyo a bit too much credit. That sort of trick didn't match with the cat's straightforward personality at all. It was much more the clever kind of thing that Yuki would try. In fact, he had before. A year ago, Yuki had planned to take Tohru and get as far away from Akito and the Sohmas as he could. He'd bought tickets. Everything was in order. He'd almost done it too, but Akito has many ways of finding things out, especially when Yuki is concerned. It made sense that Yuki would believe that Kyo would try the same tactic, but that didn't make it true.

"Don't be silly, Yuki," Shigure tried to be as calm as possible. "Kyo's taking care of his master's dojo, isn't he? And how do you know he was telling you the truth, anyway? He could have said anything just to get you excited. It wouldn't be the first time."

"Except Kyo can't lie. He's awful at it." This was a very true point. "And he's disappeared."

"I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation."

"Yeah," Yuki nodded. "I'm sure there is, but I bet that Hatori's the only one who can give it to me. He's got to know what's going on." And before Shigure could say anything else, Yuki was on his way out the door again, presumably to ask his other cousin a few more questions about Kyo's and Tohru's whereabouts.

Unsettled, Shigure went straight to the phone after he heard Yuki's car start. He dialed the dojo, but there was no answer. Expecting this, even though it unnerved him, he then called its master, Kazuma.

"Kazuma," Shigure greeted him with relief in his voice. "How are things?"

"Shigure?" Kazuma sounded confused. "What's going on?"

"Oh, you know, I thought I'd just check in with you. See how the dojo is doing."

"To tell you the truth," Kazuma's voice took on a worried note. "I've been wondering that very thing. I'm on my way back right now, actually. I haven't been able to contact Kyo."

"How long has it been since you talked to him?"

"I honestly can't remember. I'd say it was a couple of weeks anyway. Some of the students have even managed to contact me to ask about it. Do you know anything that might be going on?"

"Maybe. Check the dojo first, but then come see me. I think we might have a problem."


	5. Everything's A Mess

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews and those of you who don't review but are adding this to your favorites. I'm very flattered! This chapter is rather dark and drawn from personal experience. Please be warned this is where the cutting starts and will most likely continue from here on out. And just because I forgot it last week, another disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket and I'm not being compensated in any way for this work. And now that everything's out of the way – I hope you enjoy Chapter Five.

**Chapter Five: Everything's A Mess**

Yuki was suspicious at first and questioned Hatori mercilessly for days. Where was Kyo? What did Akito know? Was Tohru safe? And Hatori had told him half-truths for as long as he had to. Kyo had disappeared again. As far as Hatori knew, Tohru was right where he left her. No, he couldn't say where, and Yuki knew better than to ask. Everything was quiet. There was no news. Eventually Yuki stopped coming for any new information, and things settled into an unsettling routine.

Hatori brought Kyo his meals, but did his best not to speak to him. He watched as Tohru melted into herself as the days blended into each other. At first she asked him questions about his family, about himself, about Kyo, but she grew quieter all the time. She did her best to pretend that everything was fine, as was her way. She made rice and tea and put away her clothes in the dresser. She wrote letters to her friend in Hinoi. Hatori stopped reading them after the fifth one, which detailed an exciting plane ride to America with Kyo and the new restaurant she was apparently working at.

But then something happened.

Hatori didn't know exactly what had made Tohru do it. She spoke to him like normal when he came in the morning before the day when everything changed. She'd requested some strawberries even though they both knew they weren't in season. Hatori promised himself that he would search every store in Tokyo until he found some for her. She was eating less and less, so whatever he could do to tempt her was worth the effort. They spoke of her release; Hatori couldn't tell her exactly when, but knew it couldn't be too much longer. She asked if he would move her somewhere new. He couldn't answer that either.

Then he left her for the day, knowing that she had enough food, that her room was warm enough for the bite of that particular winter's chill. Her physical needs were met. There was nothing about her presence that suggested that she had something else planned other than making her bed, then making tea and enjoying a long bath.

It was so still the next morning when Hatori entered. Tohru wasn't fidgeting about the kitchen. The bed was still made, yet for some reason Hatori knew that she hadn't actually slept in it. He scanned the small living space, his gaze coming to rest on the broken glass pieces near the sink. His pulse sounded suddenly loud to him. What happened? Where was she?

He came closer to the glass, a teacup from the looks of the fragments. Looks like she had spilled the tea as well. He bent down to examine the mess, unsure how to proceed. Sure, Tohru wasn't acting quite like herself, but this was a little too far out of character. She would never leave a broken cup on the floor and just wander off. Had someone found her? Surprised her into dropping her cup and then taking her away? No, that was equally impossible. The door was sturdy, secure, and there was only the one key, which remained forever in his possession.

"Tohru?" He called softly, but received no response. Pondering, he put his finger into a small patch of the spilled tea, jerking his hand away immediately as soon as he touched the stain.

It wasn't tea.

"Tohru!" His voice was no longer soft, but surprised and alarmed. He looked to the floor again, measuring approximately how much was there, what kind of injury had occurred. Just a broken cup. Perhaps enough to merit a few stitches. That's when he saw other stains, droplets leading from the glass toward the only private room in the tiny apartment. The door to the bathroom was open, as if someone had entered without the use of their hands. Of course. Hatori himself had tucked a small first aid kit in the little cupboard there. She was most likely inside and so absorbed in bandaging her cut that she couldn't really hear him. He hurried in that direction, calling Tohru's name as he went.

Instead of standing by the mirror as expected, Hatori found her huddled in the bathtub, completely clothed, with her sleeves rolled up past her elbows. The sides of the porcelain gleamed wetly in the darkness of the room where the sun didn't reach at any time of day.

"Tohru, how badly are you cut?" Hatori asked gently, kneeling by the side of the tub and reaching out to her, expecting her to extend her injured hand to him. But today was all about rearranging how Hatori thought, and Tohru clutched her arms tightly to her chest, bending over her knees.

"What are you doing?" The dragon thought out loud, a little horrified by the posture. That Tohru thought she had anything to hide from him.

"Nothing," Tohru answered immediately, too quickly. "Um, just cleaning the bathtub." The tone set Hatori's teeth on edge. She was lying.

"There's blood on the floor outside," he pressed. "By the teacup?"

"Ha! You thought that was blood?" Tohru said, keeping her eyes carefully down. "That's just tea. I dropped the cup; I'm so clumsy. I'll clean it as soon as I'm done here."

"You're not fooling anyone, Tohru. Let me help you. I'm going to turn on the light."

Light was serious business in the apartment. There were only two available – a small lamp by Tohru's bed to be used only during certain hours of the day and then an overhead light in the bathroom that could only be turned on when the bathroom door was fully closed. Hatori pulled it to behind him, reaching to flip the switch and flood the truth into the room. Tohru squeaked uncomfortably as the light drenched the scene. Hatori grabbed for the doorknob, but kept his composure before revealing too much of his real feelings.

The wet glisten on the tub sides were streaks of drying gore. Drops puddled near the drain, mingling with some leftover water. Even though Tohru had clenched her body as tight as she could, he could still make out the source of the blood. Her hands were covered, rivulets zigzagged down her arms, dripped onto her knees and spiderwebbed away from her legs.

Gently but firmly Hatori straightened Tohru's upper body, prying the piece of broken cup out of her fist and inspecting the damage. The wounds were mostly superficial. There might be one place that needed a suture; he'd have to look more carefully once he'd cleaned her up. She met his gaze for one awful moment, when he was certain that her soul would leak out, be watered down, and lost forever down the pipes, but then she turned her head away again in shame.

Hatori took a long breath, juggling questions in his mind, opening his mouth to ask one and then thinking again before making a sound. In the end, he managed to give voice to only one of the hurricane of queries.

"What have you done to yourself?"

She looked at the bottom of the tub, at her hand, still clenched as if holding the broken glass. She looked down her arms, at the splotches on her knees, at the tiny trail of droplets that had led Hatori to her. She looked everywhere she could without looking at him, but eventually did give him an answer.

"I don't know," she said, and her voice had no life in it at all.

Dr. Sohma took over for a while, for both their sakes. Without words, he helped her wash the wounds properly, put in stitches where he thought she needed them, wrapped her arms in gauze and tape. He made her tea and forced a sleeping aid into her by dissolving it into the hot liquid. He tucked her into her bed, then sat in consideration at the side of it, keeping one hand on her knee but not looking at her closed eyes.

For a while, he was tempted to erase her memory, to make the words she wrote to her friend real in her mind. Wouldn't she be grateful for him to take this pain? But he couldn't bring himself to use his power without her permission, as she always declined with as much force as he had ever seen in her when he asked. She did not want her memories taken, she insisted. No matter what happened to her, she wanted to remember it all. It just didn't make sense. Why keep a memory when all it did was hurt you? When it prompted violence on yourself? It would be so easy to take it away.

Hatori shifted his hand from her knee to her head. He could do it. She would wake in the morning and not know anything. He could tell her whatever he liked. She'd been attacked and was recovering in a hospital room. She was the sister of a wealthy businessman who had just been rescued from a blackmailer – who must now wait here until it was safe to move her. He could make up any story he wanted.

But no. She wanted her memory. It was the only thing she really demanded of him. She didn't beg for her release, for him to repair any of the wrongs his family had inflicted on her. The one thing she did beg for was for him to leave her mind alone, to allow her to keep all her experiences, even the most hideous.

"Don't take them away from me again," she said. "Yuki and Kyo. They are part of me now, Hatori-san. They are me. I never want to be without their memories again. It's too dark a place." Hatori stroked her hair. She wanted what Kana hadn't. Kana said it would have been better if they had never met. She wanted to leave it behind her, even though the pain was not all hers. She had taken the easy way out, while Hatori had no choice about what he could pretend. It unnerved him, covered him in an uneasy guilt.

He stayed with her longer than he should have, calmly pondering his anger. Surely there had to be another way. There must be something else he could do. Something that would allow Tohru the freedom she needed, the friendships she needed. The words from others that would assure her that her existence was not a waste, not an unwanted life. What business did she have here in the first place? Hidden so Yuki would not try to run again. Her presence nearby kept him close to Akito, bound him tight to the curse. Couldn't he help her escape?

But then what? Take her back where they found her? From Kyo's description that might be an even worse plan than where she was right now. Here it had only taken a few weeks to prompt her to cut herself. There it had taken several months but had prompted her to take her own life.

No, the best place for Tohru was here, where he could keep watch over her carefully. There was only a little time left, a month or so. Then the power would shift and Yuki would be in charge. Tohru would be free and certainly able to stay with the rat as long as she cared to. He would take her method, remove the glass and knives, replace them with something that would do no harm. He would keep her safe from herself until Yuki could heal her completely.

So Hatori replenished the food in Tohru's room, took away her trash, pretended to mail her letters. But eventually she stopped writing them. Eventually she stopped doing much of anything that he could see, and she frequently wore the same clothes for several days at a time. She stopped speaking to him, stopped meeting his eyes except for the briefest of shame-filled glances. Kyo, on the other hand, glared at Hatori every moment he was with him. The dragon knew that Kyo could handle the isolation, as cats can, but he could see that every day was leading Tohru further away. She even managed to hurt herself again. He had no idea what she was using, outside of her fingernails. He only knew that it became part of the daily route to check her for new injuries and make a quick, unobtrusive search for whatever she had in hiding that could cause the kind of damage he treated almost daily. He told himself that there was nothing else that could be done. He told himself that it was better for one person to be lost than for the entire family to be undone. Because Akito must be obeyed. Tohru might have to be sacrificed for the secret. She wouldn't be the first one. Hadn't he done it himself once? What good would be her happiness if it would cause infinitely more suffering?

But when Shigure and Kazuma came to him one evening, there was no way to stick to his plans. There was no lie that he could tell himself that could make him feel better about his actions, even though the consequences of ceasing them could be disastrous.

"There's someone in the neko room," Kazuma began immediately without any sort of introduction. "And Kyo's missing."

"He's there," Hatori confirmed, resolutely.

"It's too soon," Kazuma argued, shaking his head, obviously trying to remain calm. "How long has he been there? You're cheating him of his freedom."

"The ceremony will be very soon," Hatori said. "Kyo knew this would happen after his graduation. Akito gave the order. The ceremony is only a month away. Hardly any time at all."

"It is for Kyo," Kazuma hissed, every part the protective parent.

"We all knew his fate when he was born," Hatori continued calmly even though he trembled inside. "There was no way to change any of our destinies."

"But why now?" Kazuma pressed. "Yuki hasn't taken over Akito's place yet. There's no reason to imprison him until then." Hatori couldn't think of an answer fast enough that would be convincing. "Unless something happened?" Hatori turned away.

"Hatori, what's going on?" Kazuma asked again, staring hard at the dragon.

"Hinoi!" Shigure slammed his fist into his palm in revelation. Then he too was staring too hard at Hatori. "It's because he had business in Hinoi, isn't it?"

"Shigure," Hatori began, needing this conversation to stop immediately before it got out of his control. "Leave it alone."

"He found her," the dog stated, fully understanding. "He's being punished because he found Tohru."

"I said leave it alone. It's out of my hands now anyway."

"She's all right?" Shigure asked, acting as if his cousin hadn't spoken. "If Akito has ordered Kyo imprisoned early, then he must have suspected something. He hasn't done anything to her, has he?"

Again Hatori was one second too slow with a response, his answer delayed by the flash of dark images of Tohru and the ruin she had become. Kazuma pounced on his hesitation. "Where is she, Hatori?"

"You know I can't tell you," Hatori stood up, intent on exiting the conversation since his silence was not working as well as he hoped. "Stop asking."

"There's something you're not telling us," Kazuma continued. "You already knew that we knew where she was. Has she been moved? Hatori?"

"I can't tell you!" Hatori snapped. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." Kazuma put a hand on Hatori's shoulder and pressed him back into his chair. At first, it made him furious. How dare they question him like this? They should know by now that he was only acting on orders, as they all should.

And yet, as they continued to question him, he couldn't put Tohru's blank eyes out of his mind. Could it really be right, what they were doing to her? It bothered him so much to leave her locked in that place, knowing that without his supervision that she would hurt herself, starve herself, and sink further into some private torment. But he just didn't know what else he could do to prevent it. He sank into his chair, not struggling against Kazuma's hand, and hid his face in his palms. He couldn't disobey.

"Hatori," Shigure came closer, also putting a hand on his friend's other shoulder. "Let us help you."

"Akito gave orders," Hatori prefaced his words, knowing that there would be no way to escape their displeasure completely.

"Where is Akito keeping her?" Kazuma stepped back into the conversation, determined to have his answers. Even though he was not part of the zodiac, he was deeply connected to Kyo and supportive of the one person outside of the family who really accepted him. "She's safe?"

"She is still in Hinoi, isn't she?" Shigure asked with an innocent tone. His expression sharpened with shock, however, as Hatori met eyes with his longtime friend. "She's not."

"Where is she, Hatori?" Kazuma pressed, and Shigure nodded his agreement of the question. They would not be put off. Hatori debated giving them another lie to put them off the scent, but knew that Shigure would see right through it.

"Here," he whispered, and even though he knew it was the worst thing he could say, he was relieved nonetheless. "He had me bring her here when we discovered that Kyo had found her. He's afraid that Yuki will try to run away with her again. So she's been living here until after the ceremony. Then afterwards, Yuki will be the family head and we can put everything behind us."

"If that's the case," Kazuma pondered aloud. "Why are you so upset about it?"

"I want to see her," Shigure demanded almost at the same time.

"No," Hatori denied quickly. He had strict orders, and it would not do for Yuki to discover her little shed. It was a great fortune that he spent as little time as possible on the Sohma compound as it was. It would be disastrous should he be tipped off about her location. Not only that, but Tohru was not in any state for visitors.

"We understand that Yuki can't know," Kazuma said, and suddenly both he and the dog were standing over Hatori, shadowing his desk. "And all we're asking is a few minutes to check on her."

"She is being taken care of," Hatori insisted, but the other two men were adamant.

"Then a few minutes shouldn't be a problem," Kazuma said again, taking Shigure's robe and steering him toward the door. "We're going to find her either way. It will look much less suspicious if you just take us right there rather than having us checking every building in the compound. And once we've seen her, I need to visit Kyo."

"Akito has given orders," Hatori tried one last time, but was quickly interrupted.

"Akito doesn't scare me," Kazuma said. "Besides, his power is short lived, from what you've said."

And so Hatori led Shigure and Kazuma to Tohru's shed where there was no light. It wouldn't do for anyone to see a light on through her only window. She knew to stay quiet and still when it was dark, but that was about all she knew anymore. She had stopped eating regularly, and Hatori was no longer convinced that she ate anything if he didn't watch her do it. She didn't speak to him or appear to notice when he came. He worried about her well being. He tried to touch her, talk to her, spending more of his time than he liked attempting to bring her back. He knew that Shigure and Kazuma would be furious when they looked at her, but they didn't understand. She was still alive, and the only way she was leaving the room before Akito had given his approval was if she were to be murdered, either by Akito himself or through some inconceivable action of her own design. She just had to hang on a little longer.

Hatori knew that he deserved the look of disgust that Kazuma shot at him when they opened the door. The room was, as expected, dark. Tohru was sitting on the bed, staring at the floor with unfocused eyes. Shigure didn't spare a look for the dragon, but immediately went to kneel at Tohru's feet, taking her hands gently in his own.

"Tohru," he began softly, staring up at her with pained eyes. "It's me, Shigure."

"How could you?" Kazuma asked through gritted teeth. Hatori had no answer. He'd done the best he could. He didn't want this to be how things were, but there was no other choice. Akito was the head of household and needed to be in authority of all of them. They all owed him their allegiance, respect, and life.

"I've done the best I can," Hatori heard himself say in his dead voice. He didn't like it. He felt horrible about the whole thing, and wanted Akito to pass his mantel quickly so he could release her as he had a year ago. "At least she's still alive."

"This is unacceptable. He's ruined her!" Kazuma, unthinking, flicked on a small lamp on Tohru's desk. It threw her dark eyes into terrible relief. Her hair was growing out again, barely to her shoulders, but it looked as though she had not brushed or washed it for a very long time.

"Turn that off!" Hatori hissed, brushing past Kazuma to do it for him. What if someone were to see? The whole point of keeping Tohru like this was to keep her secret, isolated from Yuki. If Haru or Momiji had seen that light, then it wouldn't be long before Yuki came hunting. And if he found her like this, what would he do? It was vital to keep Yuki thinking that she was still where Hatori had left her. At present, he was satisfied with that answer, though deeply hurt, and he was so far willing to continue with the ceremony preparations. He was so docile, actually, that if it weren't for the physical discomfort of the curse, Akito was near overjoyed that his plans were going so well. The Sohma family needed Yuki just as much as they needed Akito.

"We need to do something," Shigure said, still holding to Tohru's hands. She had yet to acknowledge that she knew he was in front of her at all.

"What exactly do you want me to do?" Hatori questioned the two men, one still glaring at him and the other murmuring softly to the girl on the bed. "Someone has to protect this family."

"It isn't right," Shigure said, stroking the back of Tohru's hand. "Just because he is suffering doesn't mean that everyone needs to, especially her. She's done nothing."

"It's only for a little while longer," Hatori countered, pulling together all the things he had told himself to feel better about Tohru. "Akito is weak. No one knows that more than I do. He can't hold on to our burden much longer. It must be passed on."

"Bring Kyo here," Kazuma said suddenly, as if he hadn't been listening to a word that Hatori had said. "They should be together."

"That's out of the question," Hatori said, shaking his head and folding his arms determinedly.

"No, it's a solution," Kazuma argued, with obvious strain to keep his voice calm. "I think it would be best for Tohru to have someone with her all the time." 

"I fail to see how Kyo can help here."

"Come on, Hatori. You obviously can't risk being here constantly, Kyo and Tohru have always worked well together. I think that bringing Kyo to share Tohru's prison might shake her out of this."

"Kyo would be furious, and Akito can't handle that kind of shock."

"But listen. If Kyo is here, he's going to want to help her. And the best way that he can do that will be to keep calm." A bit of sense clicked in Hatori's head. Of course. Why hadn't he thought of something like this? "And if he's calm, well, we're all a lot better off, aren't we?"

"But what about after? This isn't a permanent solution. They will have to be separated in the end. He'll have to go back."

"Let's worry about that when the time comes."

"Tohru, what's this?" Shigure's voice was close, but it was as though he were speaking to her through a wet blanket. She saw him, but there wasn't much left in her to react to his presence. As he stroked her hand, his fingers brushed against the fresh scars on her forearm. She blinked, hard, when her light was turned on one more time. Kyo's master, Kazuma, stepped in front of it to shield the brightness and make it less noticeable, but still bright enough to see. Shigure's concerned face blocked everything else out. She wanted to explain herself, to make him understand that it was better her way. She was surprised when she felt wet on her cheeks. Could she possibly still feel enough to cry anymore?

"I'm sorry," was all she seemed to be able to say. "You don't have to worry about me." Shigure stared at her with an expression on his face that made her want to run away.

"What happened, Tohru?" Shigure pressed. "Who did this to you?" Tohru turned from him, unable to put an explanation into words. She couldn't bear to think that he was disappointed in her.

"Akito?" Shigure put his newest question to Hatori, having realized by now that Tohru would not be answering anything.

"No," Hatori answered. "He's never been here. These are. . ." he paused, having never said this out loud. "These are self-inflicted."

"No," Shigure moaned, looking back to Tohru. "Why?"

"Only she can tell you." Hatori's voice sounded hurt. She hated that sound. Before, in another time, she would have smiled and made up an excuse so that no one had to worry about her, so the concern would vanish, so they wouldn't think about her anymore or hurt for her sake. But that was so long ago. Before her worry and doubt had twisted itself inside her.

Her first while in the shed was the most difficult. All of this trouble, just because she was a nuisance. She had remembered when she shouldn't have. She had gotten in the way when she hadn't wanted to. Kyo was in trouble because of her. Yuki was upset because of her. Hatori was forced to do things he didn't want to, and everything was all her fault. At first she couldn't cry enough. Her sorrow was never ending, but then it hardened. Instead of waves of helplessness, there was one flame of hatred. She knew that all of them could go back to their lives if she were no longer in it. That was the day that she stopped eating unless Hatori forced her to do it. She felt empty, wasted, and wished to no longer exist. But she found that she couldn't disobey Hatori when he asked her to do things. Her will to please outweighed even her strongest personal desire.

She had compensated. The first pain had been an accident. So small as to be almost completely insignificant. She had dropped a cup and broken it on the floor. When she began to clean it, she cut herself slightly on one of the jagged pieces. And instead of hurting, it had been her instant release. It felt so wonderful, that small hurt, and instantly she knew that it would be a greater relief the more pain she could inflict. It was the one thing that she could still feel, and it helped her guilt to know that she was punishing herself, however slightly.

Hatori had found out, of course, and removed everything that she could use. He watched her closely, spending many uncomfortable hours with her in her torment. He thought he was helping, even though he was taking her one method of escape. She was sad that her one pleasure caused him suffering, so she did her best to keep it to herself how deeply she missed it.

But it all seemed out of focus now that Shigure was running his fingers over her arm, tracing the small, new scars and looking at her with such a terrible expression. Her body curled itself up on the bed, allowing Shigure to keep her arm. She wanted to shrink away to a place where she wouldn't be a burden, where she wouldn't be herself.

"Just give me the key," she heard Kyo's master say to Hatori. "And I'll go get him myself." She knew that he wanted Kyo to come, but that was the last thing that she wanted. He would be so angry, and she didn't know if she could bear that.

"It's ok," her voice broke out very tiny among the heated ones of the men. "Kyo doesn't need to come."

When all three pairs of eyes came to rest on her, she buried her face in the pillow. She didn't want them to look at her. She couldn't stand it. "Tohru," Shigure started, but seemed uncertain of what to say.

Kazuma came close and knelt beside Shigure. "Don't you want to see him, Tohru? I know he wants to see you." Her heart tried to beat harder for an instant before settling itself into its dull pattern again. She had wanted to see him, but not like this.

"He'll be so angry," she whimpered.

"Not at you," Kazuma promised. "He wants to talk to you. He needs you, Tohru."

"No," she said, and pulled her hand from Shigure's. No one needed her. She wasn't anyone important. Her senses shut down, and someone reached out to turn off the lamp once more. She didn't hear the men leave.


	6. Is Anybody Here I Know

Author's Note and Disclaimer: The chapters from here on out are my favorites, so I hope you like them too. Thanks so much for all your kind reviews! And just to be clear – I don't own Fruits Basket, blah blah blah, not making any money from this, yadda yadda, let's go see what Tohru and Kyo are up to. Thanks again!

**Chapter 6: Is Anybody Here I Know**

"Better let me talk to him first," Kazuma whispered on their way to the neko room.

"I really don't know if this is a good idea," Hatori whispered back, even as his hand reached into his lab coat pocket for the set of keys that he kept constantly with him. Tohru's shed key was there along with the key to Kyo's prison and also a small key that opened the door to Akito's personal hell. In some ways, Hatori was relieved that Kazuma had come. He wanted things to work out differently. He wanted all the pain to ease, and he especially wanted someone else to take the responsibility.

Kyo was not much better than Tohru, though his rage was turned outward instead of in. During the days of his captivity, he had developed the posture and nature of a very large, very violent animal. He had taken on all the characteristics of a caged leopard, and it was almost enough to make Hatori frightened when he came to see him. Akito had told the cat of Tohru's capture and confinement, wanting to make it very clear that his will would be obeyed one way or another. Kyo hadn't said much about it, but it hadn't helped their relationship at all. He would still speak to Hatori in harsh tones, but his words were poison. He blamed Akito, Hatori, and especially Yuki for his imprisonment and for every hurt and disappointment he had suffered in his short life. His body almost steamed with hate. While this was not pleasant, it was keeping Kyo very much alive. He practiced his ritual exercises. He chanted a new mantra, and he kept a tight grasp on his fantasies for revenge.

Kazuma was not quite prepared to see him in this fashion. He had, of course, known that he was capable of this kind of emotion, having seen it in him when he was very young. But years of training and affection had eventually worn it down until Kyo could enjoy his time despite the curse. During the months he was with Tohru, he had softened even more. If Akito had been paying more attention, he might have worked out a better plan for his family. But like Kyo, Akito was against other's pleasures when they overshadowed his presumed suffering.

"Kyo," Kazuma called as Hatori let him into the neko room, locking the door swiftly behind him. Kyo was unpredictable, but not so much that Kazuma was unprepared when the young man tried to plunge his fist into his jaw. He caught him deftly and spun him around, sweeping his arm behind his back and holding him securely as he had done often when he wanted to reason with a cat who only wanted to run. "Kyo, I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"What difference does it make?" Kyo hissed, his voice low and terrible. Kazuma felt the boy's muscles clench and tremble beneath his hands and against his chest. He had grown considerably stronger in their time apart, probably training more in this room than he had in the mountains.

"I have a plan," Kazuma continued, ignoring his student's words. He knew that Kyo was acting on the emotion that was easiest. All of his hurt and detachment and sadness quickly burned into rage. It had always been his way. "I'm going to take you to Tohru."

Kyo wrenched himself free so he could turn and face his master. Kazuma didn't know how to take the expression on his face, what the sneer really meant. Had he changed so much?

"It's a little late, isn't it?" Kazuma waited for a moment while Kyo fought within himself. He could tell that he wanted to know about the plan, but he was being stubborn in hanging on to his anger. It was his only protection now. "How is she?" He finally asked, lowering his fists and looking at the floor.

"She needs her friend," Kazuma told him, honestly. Kyo's reaction was rapid and unexpected. Instead of calming at this statement, he raced to the door and shook the bamboo bars as hard as he could, glaring at Hatori with extreme violence.

"You've finally done it, haven't you? I bet she doesn't even talk anymore, does she? I bet you've made her hate herself so much that you don't even know if she eats!" He paused for one second, examining Hatori's face. "It's true isn't it? Isn't it true, Hatori?"

A light went on in the compound and a door opened questioningly into the night. Someone had heard Kyo shouting. Shigure ducked into the shadows beside the neko room while Hatori waved to the silhouette in the doorway. There was a soft muttering about the "damn cat" but soon the door was closed and the shadow was lost in darkness.

"Please keep quiet, Kyo, or we won't be able to do this," Kazuma said, trying to draw his attention away from the dragon. "You're right about her," Kazuma went on, and this time Kyo really did turn his head away from Hatori to consider his master. "And that's not what any of us want for her. I want you to bring her back."

"What for?" Kyo spat the words out. "So you can erase her memory and drop her somewhere even more remote and secluded? This didn't start when you shut her up here, you know. She was already wasting away before I even saw her. She wasn't a real person anymore, and that's the worst thing you could do to her." 

"I saved her life," Hatori countered, though softly. "Akito would have had her killed if I didn't persuade him to lock her up."

"You don't understand something," Kyo did not look at his cousin this time, and kept his voice quiet though his fists were shaking again. "Taking her identity and leaving her without any knowledge of herself is not keeping her alive."

"But you can stop it," Kazuma kept on, hoping to stop another outburst before it began. "She listens to you. She does what you say, and I think it would be good for both of you to take care of each other."

"Until when?" Kyo interrupted. "Until the ceremony when you'll lock me back up here? How long will that be?"

"I'm going to figure something out," Kazuma told him, wishing he had a better plan. Kyo stared at him, folding and unfolding his arms as if he were holding himself back from attacking his master then deciding that he really didn't want to restrain himself anymore. Finally, he nodded, breaking eye contact.

"I'll go to her, but not because of any of you," Kyo told them savagely. "Let's go."

Kazuma kept a close hold on Kyo's wrist as Hatori unlocked the door again. The dog and the dragon flanked the young man as they walked quietly back to where Tohru lie in her bed. Kazuma whispered to Kyo all the way there.

"I know you think that you'll be ready when you see her, but I don't think that's true. I just want you to know that she told us not to bring you to her because she thought that you would be angry. You were right about her wasting away, and I think if you explode right away when you go in there, it will destroy all her chances of being normal again. Do you understand?"

"Yeah. You're all sick is what I understand."

"Be as gentle as you can," Kazuma reminded him when they were on Tohru's threshold. Hatori pulled the key from his pocket again, allowing Kyo to step inside. The oldest Sohmas stood just at the door, waiting with held breath as Kyo turned on the light. He had taken it from the table and placed it on the floor before he had done so, minimizing the intensity that could be seen from the outside.

There was a sharp cry that made Shigure jump, but it was not coming from the building closest to them. It was at the main house, and it sounded agonized. Kyo came hurtling out of the shed and probably would have kept running for as long as he had strength if Kazuma had not caught him and held him tight.

Kyo struck at his master for several moments attempting to get free, then he seemed to notice Hatori for the first time and renewed his efforts to release Kazuma's grip, but not so he could run this time. Hatori and Shigure both tensed in case Kazuma faltered. When it became clear to him that he could not break Kazuma's hold, Kyo turned a full glare on his cousin.

"You're a miserable bastard. I hope you know that."

"Remember, Kyo," Kazuma said. "Calm is what she needs. Calm encouragement. You know how sensitive she is to your moods."

"Not as sensitive as some," Kyo's voice was deadly quiet now. He was still staring at Hatori. "You'd better go. He's going to need you." When Kazuma felt Kyo's muscles relax, he lessened his hold. Kyo moved back toward the door to allow Hatori to lock him inside.

"She'll probably forgive you," Kyo said finally as the door was closing. "But I never will."

Tohru's eyes were open when Kyo returned to her bedside. He sat gently on the bed, trying to group his hate into a small corner where she wouldn't be able to see, and even as he did this, he hoped that Akito were suffering more than he ever had before. At first, when she looked at him, there was nothing alive in her eyes. She might have been blind, or dead. Kyo thought it best not to say anything just yet, knowing that he would explode if he tried to speak.

Then, all at once, recognition flared into the blue, electrifying them for a moment. Tohru sprang into action, leaping from the bed and kneeling at Kyo's feet, her hair, growing out now, falling around her face.

"I'm so sorry," Tohru sobbed, tearing Kyo's insides. "I didn't mean to get you in trouble. I should have known better. I'm so selfish. I could have saved you all a lot of pain. I'm so sorry. That night when you first found me at the bridge, I shouldn't have hesitated."

Kyo was shaking again with anger. How could she possibly say such things? By the time her little tirade had come around to her confession that she would have rather jumped off a bridge than lived any more, he dared to make a sound. Grinding his teeth, he hissed through them, making a shushing noise that couldn't be perceived as too harsh. She tucked her chin further to her chest, bowing deeper, but she did stop talking. Kyo kept his teeth tightly shut and did his best to think of something he could do to comfort her without frightening her.

In the end, he was able to clench his fist around her hairbrush that she left at her little table where he had taken the lamp. He turned the light off and pulled Tohru back up to the bed, facing away from him so he couldn't see her face. Slowly he ran the brush through her hair, carefully unknotting the tangles. He kept at it for a very long time, breathing as evenly as he could. From time to time, Tohru would reach a hand back and touch his arm, as if making sure that he really was there. She didn't say anything else, and he knew better than to try. When Tohru's hair was smooth again and her head drooped drowsily, he stood up, taking her hands to stand her up as well. He turned the sheets down on her bed, and pressed her into it. He covered her up then stretched out next to her, careful not to touch her with more than his hand. He stroked her arm until her breathing slowed into sleep. He found that he no longer felt much like shrieking or running. There, in the dark, while she slept, she seemed more like the girl he remembered. He couldn't see her pained face, and the only crying he heard was in his own memory. He closed his eyes after a time, and breathed calmly.

Hatori sighed in relief when Akito finally lie still. His black hair was soaking wet, and his face was very pale. Shigure covered Akito with a blanket while Kazuma brought Hatori a much needed cup of tea. It had been very difficult the last several hours, but it seemed that everyone could get some rest now.

"I knew it would get better," Kazuma sighed, then explained as Hatori looked at him intently. "Oh, this won't be the end, but I'm sure that he will steadily improve from now on." Hatori continued to look at him with almost the same dead expression that Tohru wore. Shigure patted his friend on the shoulder and uttered the words that Hatori had desperately wanted to hear.

"You did the right thing, Hatori."

"Here."

Yuki had been standing so still for so long that it took him a moment to register that someone was talking to him. He turned toward the voice, seeing a girl bundled against the cold and holding out a steaming cup.

"What?" Yuki asked, confused.

"I said, here," the girl repeated. "I brought you some hot tea to warm you up."

"Thank you," he replied, reflexively, taking the drink. "But why?"

"Because I thought you'd be cold," the girl said, shrugging. "You've been standing on this bridge every night for over a week."

Yuki pulled the warm cup close to his chest, noticing now that he really was cold. His eyes were drawn over the girl's shoulders, automatically scanning anything that moved.

"Are you waiting for someone?" The mysterious girl asked again, turning around to look over her own shoulder.

"Yes," Yuki answered, smiling slightly in spite of himself. "Sort of."

The girl's eyes sparkled with internal amusement as she turned her head to look in the same direction as he was. "Well, she's really, really . . ." she paused, meeting his eyes again from under her lashes. "Really late."

Yuki's slight smile broadened, realizing for the first time how strange it would seem to someone who didn't know. He took a sip of the tea to hide his blush. He felt weird about this meeting. This girl had noticed him standing here every day long enough to predict that he would be here tonight and would need something hot. She'd thought of him, but he couldn't remember her at all, yet he must have seen her before. He must have seen her every night, but had taken only enough of a glance to verify that she wasn't the girl he was waiting for. It struck him only then just how much of his life might be passing him, just like the girl on the bridge with the tea, because he was waiting for the slight chance that Tohru would pass by this way again.

"Actually," Yuki said around the awkwardness he was feeling tight in his chest. "I think I'm the one that's late."

The girl's smile disappeared, replaced with an expression of friendly concern. "Did you have a fight?"

"Not exactly," Yuki answered, uncomfortable with those details. He thought almost every day about what he'd done to ruin everything. How he hadn't planned enough, hadn't thought enough ahead. How he'd destroyed her life.

"Do you want to talk about it?" The girl offered, standing beside him and resting her forearms on the bridge rail, crossing one booted ankle over the other and tucking herself in against the cold. He considered her question. Did he want to talk about it? Did he want someone else to know how selfish he was? How he messed up so badly? Would it make him feel better to confess to this stranger, this person who had no bias, no connection to the details outside of what he would give her? He watched her face, her honest brown eyes, seeing a genuine desire to help. He hadn't seen eyes like that . . .

For over a year.

"That's all right," the girl continued, not the least bit offended that Yuki hadn't answered her. He gave himself a mental shake back to the present, realizing that she was moving past him, toward the other side of the bridge. "Maybe tomorrow?" She said, walking backwards to an unknown destination.

"Wait," Yuki called, holding out the hand that was wrapped around the cup she'd given him. She stopped, her manner expectant. Yuki buckled.

"Thank you for the tea," he finished, pointing to it awkwardly.

"You're welcome," she said, resuming her journey. "Don't wait too long. It's going to snow."

He watched her until she was past the border of the last bridge light. He wondered where she was going so late at night and all by herself. He wondered how he could have missed her walking past him so many times. And for the first time since he'd started this nightly vigil, he wondered what he was doing. He put both hands around the tea, taking small sips like a mouse takes small steps toward an unknown, potentially dangerous situation. The drink was lovely; he could feel it spreading from his throat outward, thawing him out, warming him up in more than a physical sense. He hadn't seen that girl, but she had seen him and thought to help him. The kindness almost hurt.

He lingered on the bridge until the tea was gone, but he no longer started at any sound that might be a footstep. He pondered the water running beneath him, pondered the snow that started falling, muffling the noise of the world until it was just him, just his breath in his ears, just his pulse, just his life. There was no noise, just movement. The water, the snow, every so often a vehicle on either side of him – all moving.

He thought of Tohru. Was she moving? She wouldn't know him now, even if he did find her. What did he want exactly? He wanted to see her. He wanted to make sure she was all right. He wanted to make sure that his actions hadn't ruined her happiness the way he imagined they had. He wanted absolution, closure.

He wanted forgiveness.


	7. Maybe I'm Out of My Mind

**Author's Note: My apologies for the late update. I had the chapter written, but it was locked in my brick of a laptop. Everything's fine now, though, and no Fruits Basket characters were harmed in the excavation of my computer files. I've tried to make up for my tardiness with an extra-long chapter, and finally some Kyo and Tohru interaction!**

**Disclaimer: Once again, I own no one I'm writing about. Just having some fun in a non-compensated manner.**

**Chapter Seven: Maybe I'm Out of My Mind**

The next morning brought new insights and new rage for Kyo as light filtered in the windows. It was still early by the paleness of the sunlight, and Tohru was still sleeping soundly. Kyo propped himself up on his elbow, slightly stiff from drifting in and out of sleep in awkward positions all night. Just as he was getting comfortable he would jerk himself awake, afraid of falling into too deep a sleep this close to Tohru. He wasn't sure how much she remembered, and didn't want to shock her by transforming too soon.

He studied her as she lie there, more still than he remembered. Tohru's true emotions usually made their way to the surface during her unguarded sleeping moments. She was the most innocent of souls, but she did like to keep her hurts hidden. To see her lying this way was unusual and unsettling. As the light grew brighter, Kyo took it upon himself to study her closely. He knew that if she were awake this kind of scrutiny would make her uncomfortable, so it would have to be finished when she opened her eyes.

The longer he looked, the harder it became to keep his anger suppressed. He knew the reasons that he had been brought in to see Tohru, and they didn't all have to do with her well-being either. This made it that much harder to remain calm, but he did his best. He would have to talk to her today, so he had to be calm enough so he wouldn't have to keep his teeth clamped shut. He doubted that she would speak again since the only thing he had done while in her presence was shush her.

He remembered her in better times when her hair had been much longer and shining. Her eyes sparkled in happiness at the slightest pleasure and her clothes fit her well. Now her cheeks had a shrunken, unhealthy look to them and her eyes seemed sunken as well. Her pajama top was so large on her that it gaped in the back and Kyo could make out all of her vertebrae down her spine. She was so skinny and vulnerable. How could Hatori have watched this descent and done nothing? What was he thinking was so important that he could ruin her life this way?

He tried to distract himself from these thoughts, noticing that his hands were beginning to clench again. Don't be mad, he told himself. You'll hurt her if you're mad. She's already afraid of that. But he couldn't remain in the bed next to her and keep looking at her the way she was. He would have to get up and do something else if he were going to stay in control.

Tohru didn't move as he slipped off the bed and wandered around her prison. It was larger than the neko room, designed for more creature comforts. She had everything she needed here. "Except the will to live," thought Kyo disgustedly as he searched the cupboards and fridge.

As the sun continued to rise and Tohru continued to sleep, Kyo put together some breakfast for them both to eat together when she decided to wake up, though it was a little tricky since there didn't seem to be any knives in the kitchen. He felt horrible about actually waking her, knowing that this rest was the only solace she had left. If only he had been a little faster. How stupid he had been to think that he had time to prepare anything. He should have been more impulsive. How long was she going to have to pay the price for a Sohma's sin?

He didn't have to wait much longer for her. She opened her eyes, but made no other motion. They stared at each other for many minutes, neither one moving. Kyo felt his eye twitch as he gazed at hers. It was definitely unsettling. There was nothing alive there at all.

"Come on," he finally said when he couldn't stand the silence any longer. "It's getting cold."

It was all Kyo could do to keep it together watching her get out of bed. Her pajamas didn't touch her anywhere as she stood up, and she kept her hand on her bedside table for support, seemingly unable to straighten completely. Her movements were those of a much older person or someone who has been ill for a long time. Her eyes scanned the floor as if judging how far it was to the table. Her face was tortured, and Kyo realized that she was torn between doing as he asked and making her body cooperate.

For one second there was a small burst inside his chest. The burst lodged in his throat painfully, and Kyo was overcome. The feelings quickly flashed into white hot fury, but he swallowed all of it all at once and jerked to his feet. Tohru was still standing by her bed when he reached her side. He took her wrist in his hand, wincing inwardly at how papery her skin was and how it seemed he held an eggshell in his palm. She leaned on his arm and together they walked to the table where Kyo set her gently on a chair.

She didn't seem to know what to do next, so he busied himself with the calming motions of pouring her tea and supplying her with rice and fruit. She stared at her plate with such an expression that Kyo almost overflowed her cup as he studied it out. What was that face? Kyo knew that he didn't recognize emotions well, that anger was easiest to process. He knew it wasn't anger on her face, but it wasn't a soft look either.

"Eat," he commanded, clipping the word short so he wouldn't lose his temper yet trying to keep it soft enough that she wouldn't see it as a threat. She breathed deeply, her face darkening. She turned her gaze away from the plate he had set in front of her, the tortured look coming back into her eyes. Kyo puzzled for another moment before realizing what was wrong. She didn't want to eat. The look had been one of disgust, and now she was raging inside herself on which action would cause the most grief, putting something into her mouth or making him angry. Maybe Kazuma hadn't made the right decision in forcing Hatori to bring him here. Obviously his presence wasn't doing much good. Yuki would have been better at this sort of emotional nonsense. Yuki would have known just what to say to make her pick up her chopsticks and take a bite, even just one.

Yeah, well damn Yuki, Kyo thought savagely, clenching his fist around the teapot handle and forcing himself not to slam it down. Yuki wasn't here, was he? And hadn't Kyo already decided that Yuki definitely did not know what was best for Tohru? Hadn't he known, deep down, that all she needed was him? He could do this himself. She would come around, and things would be the same as they always were between them.

He picked up the chopsticks for her and placed them as gently as he could into her hand while trying very hard not to snap them in half. "Tohru, you have to eat." A small drop of a tear landed on her plate, and Kyo looked from her hand to her face to see it streaked with more. She couldn't do it. As stupid as that sounded, it was true. Her entire psyche had crippled into self-destruction. At first, this revelation made him angry, but he forced that emotion down. This was going to be painful for them both, but if he were going to help her at all, they were both going to have to face the most uncomfortable of feelings. He'd watched others do to Tohru what he was going to do to her now, and he remembered how much it made him burn inside. Manipulation was so beneath him, and he knew he wasn't very good at it. But she had to eat.

"Ok, fine," he said, throwing his hands behind his head and leaning away from the table. "If you're not going to eat, then I'm not going to either. Which is really too bad since I'm hungry and all of this is just going to go to waste." She was watching him intently now, fully aware that he was in the room beside her and had not vanished in the darkness. Her lips trembled, but there were no more tears in her eyes. Not being able to stand the stare down, he picked up his own chopsticks, snatched a strawberry off her plate, and offered it to her. Her eyes filled with painful panic, but in the end she closed them and opened her mouth slightly. He awkwardly poked the fruit inside and watched her carefully. For a moment, he was sure she was going to choke on it, but she swallowed quickly and then breathed a sigh. Kyo also breathed again, not realizing he had been holding his breath while she chewed. Suddenly he felt very tired. This was going to take all day.

"So are you going to talk to me, or what?" He finally said as he watched Tohru staring at her folded hands in her lap. "I did come all the way over here just to see you, you know."

She lifted her eyes and bit her lip. Her hands trembled just a little bit, but eventually she said, "You can eat now too."

Relief poured over Kyo like a hot shower. Her voice was the one she used carefully after he'd caught her crying to try and hide her true feelings, but it did sound like her again. Not like the crazy talk she'd been spouting off the night before.

"You're right," he admitted, putting her chopsticks again into her hands. "Why don't you take a few more bites while I make myself a riceball?" Her eyes flecked with panic one more time, but her haggard expression softened after a moment and she accepted the offered utensils.

Watching her eat made it easier for Kyo to breathe. He paused in his own meal from time to time to indulge himself in touching Tohru. The first time he reached out to touch with one finger one strand of her hair it was with such timidity and nerves that he had to reach for his teamug several times instead of actually making contact. But when he did finally manage it, she didn't react to his fingers over her hair or tracing softly down her arm, and for once he knew that if they were to be interrupted, he would have plenty of notice beforehand. When she picked up her teacup in both hands, cradling it gently and closing her eyes to sip it, he almost felt cozy with her at their table together.

Until her sleeve fell back as she drank the last swallow and half of her forearm was exposed. Kyo managed to wait until she replaced her cup before grabbing her hand and pulling it toward him. What happened?

"Ah! Um," Tohru stuttered and tried to drag her hand back, but Kyo had always been much stronger. He took hold of her sleeve and bared her arm past her elbow. It was unclear whether the gasp he heard was his own or still more of Tohru's panicked squeaks, but that hardly mattered. Kyo clamped his teeth tightly together to prevent himself saying something too quickly. Instead, he released her arm so he could take hold of the other to check it in the same way and wasn't too surprised to see similar trauma.

Tohru's perfect white skin had been mauled along both her forearms. And who knew, maybe the horrible, jagged tracks snaked around her entire body. Not all the injuries had been made at the same time either. There were the long white lines of new scars, and wounds that were scabbed over, and one evil looking place where black surgical thread held her together. Unforgiveable.

"Who hurt you?" Kyo demanded, as quietly as he could. As if keeping her imprisoned wasn't bad enough! But who could have done this damage? Who would? "Was it Akito?"

Tohru turned away from Kyo, her face bright red, eyes downcast, and her hands drawn tightly against her body as if to shield herself from something. Who was she trying to protect by not answering?

"It was an accident," she muttered, but Kyo shook his head at her obvious lie.

"This is not an accident," he told her firmly. "And it's been going on for a while. Who was it, Tohru? Did Akito do this to you?" It was common knowledge that the head of the Sohma household was prone to fits of violence, and he had hurt Tohru before. Kyo knew it just had to be him. Of course he would love to take out all his rage on Tohru, who was alone and caged and who no one but Hatori knew about. She was probably his current, favorite toy. The way Yuki had once been.

"No," Tohru continued, still drawn tight into herself. Her voice was very soft, but Kyo was paying close attention. "It wasn't Akito."

"Why are you doing this?" Kyo asked. "You don't have to lie to protect him, Tohru. Look what he's done to you! Look at this." He pulled her sleeve up, inspecting again the brutality done to her body. Tohru, however, would not look. She closed her eyes tightly against the scene, turning her head away.

"Don't worry," Kyo heard himself promise. "I won't let him touch you again." She simply nodded, and Kyo let go of her arm, furious. How dare he do this? What made him think that he had any right to do this to anyone? It wasn't like Tohru was part of the family, not really. It wasn't as though she had anything to do with the curse. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. And what made it even worse was that Hatori had known. The wounds had been treated by him, the professional stitches proved it. Hatori knew that Akito came to torment his prisoner, and he had just allowed it to happen.

But Kyo wasn't going to. Not once. This was all going to stop. No one was going to hurt her again. And as soon as Kyo figured it out, he was going to get her away from his family forever.

He wanted to tell her all of this, to assure her that everything was going to work out. That their days in this darkness would be over soon. She just had to leave everything to him. But before he could figure out exactly how he wanted to comfort her, the lock turned and the door opened.

Hatori and Kazuma entered, both carrying small bags. Hatori went directly to the kitchen counter, efficiently depositing milk and eggs into the small refrigerator. Kazuma knelt on the floor in front of Tohru and Kyo, his eyes soft and worried.

"Well done, Kyo," he congratulated first thing. Kyo wanted to scream. Well done, nothing! He hadn't done anything. The situation was hopeless and messy and there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it. He opened his mouth, but found that there were no words for his thoughts that conveyed just the right amount of disgust.

"I've brought you some clothes," Kazuma continued when Kyo didn't answer. He handed him the bag, and Kyo took it limply. He felt so betrayed. Why was Kazuma going along with this? Tohru had nothing to do with the neko's imprisonment. She shouldn't be here. Especially if she were going to be abused like this. He thought that Kazuma liked her. Why didn't they do anything about it? How did they expect him to fix everything?

While Kyo raged inside his head, Hatori had finished in the kitchen and was standing near Tohru, his hand gently on one shoulder. "How are you this morning, Tohru?" He asked her calmly, like a doctor. Kyo's hands clenched on his knees. How could he ask her that when he knew exactly what had been done to her? How dare he pretend like he cared? "I see Kyo made breakfast for you. Did you eat any of it?" When Tohru did not answer, Hatori turned instead to his cousin. "Did she?"

Kyo glared at him. "What do you care?" He hissed, and Tohru flinched.

"Kyo!" Kazuma warned.

"What?" Kyo shouted, enraged anew. "I can't believe you're on his side. This is so wrong. Hatori, you need to take her out of here."

"Kyo," Kazuma said again, sharply.

"You can't let him do this to her anymore," Kyo was standing now, staring down Hatori. "How can you just let him come in here and hurt her like that? Huh?"

"What are you talking about?" Hatori asked, softly, having the audacity to look confused.

"Don't give me that! Her arms. What did you let that bastard do to her?" Understanding broke over Hatori's features, and he shot a quick glance at Tohru.

"Akito didn't do that," Hatori said, even softer than before. Unexpectedly, his words had the most effect on Tohru. She shrugged Hatori's hand from her shoulder and dashed out of her chair with surprising speed. Caught off guard, the three men didn't stop her before she had made her unsteady way into the bathroom and closed the door tightly behind her.

Hatori spared him one glance that clearly read as, "Now look what you've done," before hurrying after Tohru. He knocked gently on the door. "It's all right, Tohru," he called in to her while Kyo stood near Kazuma in surprise. "No one's upset with you. Please open the door." There was no answer, but Hatori waited another few moments before backing down.

"What's going on?" Kyo whispered to himself as he watched the dragon trying to coax Tohru out of the bathroom.

"Kyo," Kazuma said to draw his attention. "Tohru did that to herself."

"No way," Kyo immediately denied this outrageous claim. That was impossible. Tohru was incapable of that kind of action. She was not destructive. She couldn't hurt anyone. And yet, even though he didn't want to believe, he knew it was true. Hadn't he seen her punishing herself often during their time together, for things that weren't even her fault? For things that weren't under her control? She agonized over everything, wishing so hard that she could save her friends from any discomfort. Pondering continuously over what she could do to make things better. And when she failed, she often brooded despairingly, sometimes to the point where she made herself sick. Now that he was thinking about it with a clear head, it wasn't all that surprising that she would turn to this. Especially here where she was all alone and in the way of Akito's plans. When he thought of the family's head, his hands clenched again. Even if he hadn't physically touched her, it was still very much Akito's fault.

"I'm sorry, Kyo," Hatori was speaking to him now, having moved away from Tohru's closed door. "I should have told you before. We might have been spared this little scene." Kyo found that he was drained by this point. He sat back down in his chair, staring at nothing and feeling almost numb. He'd wondered why there had been no sharp kitchen utensils. He'd never guessed that this would be the reason. The part of his emotions that were still functioning had collapsed into a helpless sorrow. What did they possibly think he was going to do to fix this? There was no way . . .

"It's all right," Hatori continued. "She can't really do a whole lot to herself in there."

"Are you sure, Hatori?" Kazuma interrupted. "She won't try to . . . well, use the bath?"

"No," Hatori shook his head decisively. "She's not suicidal. This is," he paused to sigh, "This is her form of release, an addictive coping mechanism."

"How do you know?" Kyo asked, thinking back to the first night he'd found her after their separation. The look on her face as she stood on the bridge in the snow.

"I don't, not entirely. But she hasn't tried before, and I think it's unlikely for her to do so now. Just keep talking to her, but try to be patient. She needs as much encouragement as you can give her. Did she eat this morning?"

"Huh?" Kyo had to think back to even remember that part of their morning before the whole world shifted so hard. "Um, yeah. Yeah she ate a little bit."

"Then that is progress," Hatori nodded. "We're going to leave for the day," he explained. "It's risky enough for the both of us to come."

"Wait," Kyo said, wondering what he was supposed to do now. He wasn't the right person for this. He was sure to say something wrong, sure to press her away even further than she already was.

"The more people here, the more nervous she is," Hatori said. "I think she'll do best if it's just you with her. Try not to be angry with her for what she's done."

"I'm not angry with her; I'm angry with you."

"That's fine. I'll be back tomorrow morning to check on you."

Kyo couldn't believe that was it. They were just going to lock him back in with Tohru. What good was that? What had Hatori been doing up until now? Bring her fresh milk and stitch her up? No. This had to stop. Kyo went to stand in front of the bathroom door. What should he say? There was so much anger in him that it was hard to think. She was probably upset because she thought they were displeased with her. She hated being a burden to anyone, berating herself for being irresponsible and selfish.

Think, Kyo. Yeah, I know. But I still don't know what to do. Why did she have to do something so stupid? It's not even her fault! It's their fault. Why can't she just get mad at them.

Because that's not who she is. She's a nurturing person who likes to feel needed, who likes to have people who want to be near her. That was part of the reason she had fallen so far to begin with. Akito had stripped her of all social ties. She needs to feel needed. Ok, so how do I make her feel needed?

Kyo put both hands on the door and pressed his forehead against it. Of course he needed Tohru. She was his trust and his hope. The year they had spent apart had damaged them both. She had turned into an empty shell. Kyo had built secure emotional walls. But how could he confess how he felt about her when he knew what would happen in the end? It wasn't fair to her to tell her that kind of truth. It wasn't fair to build on that relationship just to have to tear it up again after the ceremony. He'd have to try something else.

"Hey," he called in to her. "They're, um, they're gone now." There was no sound inside the room, no way to tell if she had even heard. "I think I'm going to do a little training out here now that things have calmed down. Want to watch?" He resisted the urge to slam the door in. "Tohru?" Be patient, Kyo. Who did they think they were kidding? Patience had never been his strength.

"I'll be right here," he said, stepping away from the door and sliding down the wall opposite it, balancing his elbows on his thighs and dropping his head into his hands. He didn't have the answers. He had no words. He had no idea what he was supposed to do.

The only sounds for a long time came from outside. Faint stirrings of doors being closed, children being called in from play, and even fainter still, the sound of cars outside of the compound. From Tohru, there was nothing. Kyo thought about talking to her. He thought of confessing everything. Yet the longer they went without speaking, the harder Kyo found it was to gain any motivation. Not just to speak. He didn't even want to move. They would both sit here on the floor, her behind that lock and him right in front of it, forever separated, forever silent, forever alone.

The way it had to be.

Kyo dozed on the wood, not caring about the time, but his body's stiffness told him that they had been still for a long while, when he finally heard the lock snap open inside the bathroom. Tohru opened it to him shyly, warily. When he saw her face, Kyo leaped to his feet, but his abruptness startled her into slamming the door again with a frightened squawk. Kyo knelt, exhausted, outside, wondering how long it would take her to return. Another hour? Another day?

"Sorry," he croaked, surprised at his voice. This place had such a sedative quality to it. No wonder she had stifled under its oppressive atmosphere. "You can come out now, really. It's safe."

Safe? What did he mean when he said that. How ridiculous. Yet there were her eyes again peeking out from the door. They were flat and distant, but they were focused on him. The door opened all the way, and Tohru knelt on the floor in front of Kyo.

"Hi," he said, having no idea what else he should say.

"Hi," Tohru responded, her hands folded neatly on her lap. At least she was talking, well, sort of talking. But what were they supposed to talk about? Kyo couldn't ask her the hard questions yet. The ones he really wanted to ask. The ones he wanted to scream. What was she thinking? Why had she done that? But he'd already seen where that kind of behavior led. They would have to talk about something else. Something happier.

"I really was going to take you away," he said. "I was going to take you to America." He paused when he heard her sniffle, and discovered that his simple speech had doubled her over in tears.

Something happier, Kyo, damn it. But what?

"Um, so," he started again, awkwardly, wracking his brain for some topic that wouldn't upset her. "Does it get as cold in here as it did where I – " he broke off, surprised, when she lifted her head, tears streaming down her face. She was such a portrait of misery; he couldn't remember what he had been meaning to say.

"Did we graduate?" She asked abruptly, obviously not paying attention to anything he'd been saying. Which was quite a relief since he'd been babbling nearly incoherently.

"Huh?" He said as his mind pivoted around her simple question, turning it around and looking at it again.

"I can't remember," Tohru explained, hugging herself. "I made a promise to my mom. Did I keep it?"

"Oh," Kyo sighed, happy at being given a topic he could talk about. "Yeah, we all graduated. It was last spring," he went on, describing the ceremony. He remembered what she wore, how she had done her hair. Shigure insisted on a party. He even bought ice cream for the event. Her friends were there, Haru and Momiji, Kisa and Hiro, even Hatori and Kagura. It had been a perfect afternoon. When the ice cream was gone, they all stretched out in the yard, talking about their lives, what they wanted to do with them.

Kyo stopped talking, brought up short by the danger in continuing with those particular memories. They'd talked about dreams. They'd talked about goals and plans. They had talked about everything that he wouldn't have. And they had talked about a future that had broken to pieces just days after that most perfect sunset.

Tohru noticed Kyo's shift in mood and also fell into silence. Maybe now was a good time to bring it all up? He had been curious before, but maybe knowing would be good for her, for them both.

"What do you remember, Tohru?" Kyo heard himself ask before he was really sure that he wanted to go there. He knew that she had remembered him, at least a little, because of her cat. She remembered his name. She remembered her promise to her mother.

"I don't know," Tohru confessed, looking uncomfortable but not terrified. "Everything is disorganized. There are so many bits and pieces. I remember the graduation, now that you told me about it, but I can't see Yuki's face anymore. What happened, Kyo? It was so wonderful. What did I do?"

"Nothing!" Kyo hissed, causing Tohru to curl into herself again. "I told you; it's not your fault. It's the curse." How was he supposed to tell her this? He didn't even really know himself. Yuki and Tohru disappeared for the afternoon. It wasn't uncommon, but that night they didn't come home. Shigure was worried, but pretended that he wasn't. Phone calls were made to the Main House. Hatori got involved. Akito was notified. The next thing Kyo remembered, he'd been summoned to the Main House where he and Yuki received stern lectures on obedience and threats as to the outcome of their lives. Then they were marched into Akito's room to watch as Hatori erased Tohru's memories. He'd watched her plead, head bowed, tears pelting the wood floor, and watched Akito sneer with pleasure at her pain. It had been his triumph, this control. Hatori used his power; Tohru collapsed, senseless, to the wood. Everyone was ushered outside, and Tohru was collected to an undisclosed location, far from Yuki and Kyo.

"He didn't tell me we weren't coming back," Tohru murmured, as if she didn't realize she was speaking.

"What?" Kyo said, stopping in his painful recollection of the worst moment in his memory.

"He wanted to show me something in Kyoto," Tohru continued, speaking slowly as if she had to read these memories from a small book buried deep within her brain. "He said we'd take a day trip and come home a little before bedtime. I didn't know he meant to go farther than Kyoto. I didn't know he meant for us not to come back at all, even when he had the suitcase, I didn't even think about it."

Kyo ground his back teeth at this new information. So that's how he'd done it. That's how he'd taken Tohru away without even a farewell. He'd lied. Typical. Selfish. Immature.

"Tohru," he drew her attention to him again, swallowing down the anger her words had stuck in the back of his throat. He didn't want to talk about Yuki anymore. He didn't even want to hear any more of her memories even though it had been his question that started her in the first place. He wanted to speak about the future, not the one they talked about at graduation where he only pretended that he would have one. No, he wanted to talk about a real future, one that he really could have, and preferably a future where neither one of them were on the locked side of a door. "We're going to have to come up with some sort of plan for getting out of here. It won't be long before the family will take me and lock me up somewhere else, away from you and everyone. I don't want that to happen, but before I decide what I'm going to do about anything, I want to know what you want."

"What I want?" Tohru questioned, looking confused.

"Look," Kyo was suddenly uncomfortable. He hated talking about this kind of stuff! If only she weren't so messed up and could fill these uncomfortable pauses with her bright chatter. He traced his finger idly around the wood grain of the floor. "Ever since you got involved with the Sohmas, all we've ever done is assumed that we knew what was best for you. You felt like you needed to ask our permission to do anything and we were always setting new limitations on you."

Kyo looked around at Tohru's cozy prison, hating his family for always thinking they knew best, for always assuming they knew the correct answer for everyone's life. Especially Akito, who made all their decisions. Well, not anymore. They weren't going to get their way this time. He and Tohru were getting out, getting away, where they could make their own decisions, find their own way, and yet before that happened Kyo needed a plan, and he needed to know what Tohru really thought.

"I don't know how many times I need to tell you that you need to start sticking up for yourself," Kyo continued, noticing that Tohru was staring at him in confusion. "I don't think that we should force you to do anything that you don't want, and I don't think that I can pretend that I know what you want." Kyo stopped again before getting to what he really wanted to say. Well, at least what he thought he wanted to say. This wasn't supposed to be so hard.

"What I mean," he began again, taking deep breaths as if this were some new and difficult meditation exercise. "Is that I'm sorry that I never even asked you if you wanted to come with me before. I just went ahead with my plans without ever thinking that what I wanted was what you wanted too. That's not right." She was looking at him so hard now, like the night he met her on the bridge, as if she were having a hard time figuring out who he was. Kyo couldn't stand it. If he hadn't seen her, would Akito have done this to her? If he hadn't walked her home or asked Hatori how to help her find some purpose in her new life, would they be having this conversation? Would she have jumped off the bridge?

"So," Kyo was mumbling now, and he couldn't bring himself to look at Tohru anymore. He stared intently at the pattern the sun was making on Tohru's pajamas. "You should think about where you want to go. This time I want you to decide for yourself what you want to do. I know that's going to be hard for you. You probably haven't done what you wanted in so long, you don't even know what it is. If you want to go with me, that's great, and if you want to go somewhere else, that's great too. Whatever your choice, I'm going to help you to get better and stronger and to escape from here when I do."

"Kyo," Tohru said softly, and he savored the sound of his real name, but he had to interrupt her before she got too far. He knew her too well. He knew what she was going to say.

"I don't think you should answer right now," he told her, his voice gaining strength again. "I want you to think about it. Think about what you want because if you go with me just because you think it's the right thing to do or because you just want to please me then," he stopped himself abruptly. Did he really want to finish? He glanced up again at her, at the wreck that she had become. His heartbeat pulsed painfully once, twice, and he knew that what he was saying was the only way he would ever be at peace when it concerned Tohru.

"I don't want you with me at all if it's not your choice," he finished and abruptly stood up. All of this talk was exhausting! He returned to the kitchen area, grabbed their breakfast dishes and hurriedly dumped them in the sink. Tohru hadn't moved, but he couldn't spare any more energy on her just now. His mind was reeling with all of the things he had said. What if she didn't want to be with him? What if she did choose to go somewhere else? Would he be able and ready to hear her answer, no matter what it was?

Yes. He started filling the sink with hot water, pulling all his concentration into the simple domestic task. It didn't matter what her answer would be, because if he were going to be honest with himself, the truth was that even if she didn't want to be with him, he just wanted her to be herself again, to be happy.

They didn't talk much for the rest of the day. Kyo had exhausted all of his words at breakfast, and he didn't want to say anything now that might sway Tohru's decision either way. He certainly didn't want to talk her into anything, but at the same time, he knew if he spoke to her about their conversation, he might go too far and end up talking her out of something too. Tohru was unnaturally quiet, but that wasn't surprising. While she didn't seem uncomfortable in his presence, she didn't go out of her way to be with him. She spent quite a bit of time just staring at nothing, and Kyo hoped that she was thinking over what he had said and at the same time hoping that she wasn't thinking about it too hard. The vacant expression on her face worried him, though. Perhaps she wasn't thinking about anything?

Neither one of them ate much else, though they did have more tea around lunchtime and shared a riceball. There wasn't much need for food, Kyo realized, seeing as they were both not doing much of anything. Hatori stopped by once in the late afternoon to make sure that everything was all right. Kazuma was with him. If they were surprised by how serene the atmosphere was, no one said anything. Hatori informed them that Akito was very weak but resting quietly for the moment. Kazuma made encouraging statements, but eventually both men left with guilty eyes. Kyo found some satisfaction in that. They should feel guilty, he thought. Look what they've done. It's all their fault. All of it.

And even though he told himself that, he couldn't help but feel guilty as he watched Tohru blankly trace the scars on her arm as she stared off into a tormented scene of her own design, saying nothing. If he hadn't spoken to her, called her name like an idiot on the bridge, where would she be right now?

"Here again, I see," the familiar voice chirped cheerfully, and Yuki smiled as he looked up to see the girl from last night making the trek to where he stood on the bridge. He noticed that she again held a steaming paper cup.

"Yeah," he said guiltily.

"That's good. I'd feel silly bringing tea to someone who wasn't here." She handed him the cup, which he accepted gratefully. She paused then, her face uncomfortable. "Not that it would be a big deal," she added, trying to think of something else to say. He understood. She didn't want him to feel bad about waiting for someone who wasn't coming.

"Not at all," he said, hoping that his words would reassure her that he hadn't been offended by what she'd said. He knew he was crazy for standing here freezing on the bridge just because of some tip Kyo told him. That someone else had noticed his being crazy wasn't surprising. It didn't even make sense to him when he allowed himself to think about it long enough.

"So, um, what's your name?" She asked, changing the subject but still looking adorably awkward, her hands held behind her back now that she had nothing else in them.

"Sohma. Yuki Sohma."

"And I'm Miki Takeda. It's a pleasure to meet you." She bowed formally, catching him off guard and flooding him with happy memory. He bowed back, smiling.

"The pleasure is mine. Thank you again for the tea. I feel like I should start paying you for them if you're going to bring them every day."

"Don't even talk like that," Miki said, waving her hand and shaking her head. "I work at a restaurant; it's nothing at all to bring a cup of tea on the way home." They stood facing each other for a few moments, not knowing what else to talk about, but not really wanting to part ways either.

"I take it she hasn't come yet," Miki began, looking down into the water. "The girl you're waiting for."

"No," Yuki said despondently.

"Isn't there another way to find her? Like giving her a call or something? Does she even know you're waiting for her?"

"No," Yuki said again, answering all the questions at once and feeling uncomfortable again. It sounded so dumb when it was put that way. He couldn't call or visit. She had no idea who he was, let alone that he was looking for her. The concerned expression was back on Miki's face.

"What – did you just happen to see her here one day and are coming back just in case she comes again?"

"Something like that," Yuki confessed, surprised at Miki's observation ability.

"What if she never comes?" There! She'd said it. She'd said the one thing he made sure he never asked himself. What if he spent every night on this bridge, seasons changing, people moving all around him, and she never came by again.

"I don't know," he answered himself, not having planned for that scenario. Again with the lack of forethought.

"Well, what about if she does come? What are you going to say to her?"

"I'm not sure about that either," Yuki confessed, feeling heat in his face that had nothing to do with the drink in his hand.

"She must have really left an impression on you," Miki sighed, leaning over the railing and shaking her head. "For you to go to all this trouble."

"Yes," Yuki said, smiling.

"It's pretty romantic."

"It is?" This was something he hadn't considered during all the long hours he'd spent in this spot. He had thought it was a long shot. He'd thought it was crazy. He'd thought it was something he really needed, but never had he once thought it might be romantic.

"Sure it is. I would be so flattered if someone were standing and waiting on a bridge every night with no other thought except he just wanted to see me again."

"I guess so."

"But Yuki –" she hesitated, biting her lower lip.

"What?" He encouraged, enjoying how her talking was filling the night, making him feel like a part of him was in motion again, making him feel like he wasn't just a gargoyle stuck at the peak of the bridge.

"Never mind. It's really none of my business. Anyway, I have to go before I miss my bus." She made to leave him, but before he even knew what he was doing, he reached out and caught her wrist. She whipped her head around to look at him, the tiniest bit of fear on her face before she recognized his expression.

"Please," Yuki begged. "What were you going to say?"

"Well, standing on a bridge and waiting for someone who doesn't know who you are is only romantic if they find out about it. If she never comes back, or if she does and you find out that you can't talk to her after all, then –"

"Then?" Yuki prompted, surprised at how much he needed to hear this. She sighed, her manner full of regret that she had said anything.

"If she doesn't come, then what you're doing is really just tragic, isn't it?" He let his fingers slip from her sleeve, feeling the truth of her words just as sharply as he felt the cold wind blowing up from the river beneath him. The worst part was that he knew this already, but was keeping it at bay with the thought, that one precious thought, that maybe things could be the way they were. That he could pretend that nothing had happened. There was a huge emptiness inside him that he could only associate with her absence, but how could he really explain that to someone outside of the circumstances? That the thought of meeting her on this bridge, of seeing for himself that he hadn't caused her permanent harm, was what could allow him to go on with his life properly. If he didn't have that, then there would be no way to move forward. The real tragedy here wasn't the time he was spending on the bridge. The tragedy had happened long before, and it didn't matter how many nights he stood here. However long it took was just penance for what he'd done. He would stay here until he found out what happened to her.

"I'm sorry," Miki said through his thoughts, and he found she was peering anxiously into his face, still near him even though he wasn't sure how long they'd been standing together in silence since her last statement. "I say it's none of my business. This is obviously really important to you. I'd just hate for you to miss out on something that you'd regret."

"Thank you for worrying about me," Yuki assured her, even though he didn't feel very assured himself. "But this is something I know I have to do."

"Whatever you say." She lifted her hand in a parting wave, but her face wasn't entirely convinced that she was doing the right thing in leaving him.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Yuki called after her, smiling in the manner he remembered the girls in his fan club had found so charming. She grinned, still shaking her head at him, but did wave one more time before she dissolved outside of the light.

Her words unnerved him long after she was gone, however. What would he say if Tohru came? He couldn't exactly apologize for something she wouldn't remember he'd done. He couldn't straight out ask her how she was doing if she thought him a stranger. Maybe he was wasting his time. Maybe he wasn't thinking clearly. What did he want from her? And even more, could she really give it to him?

Maybe he shouldn't come back. Maybe he should move forward instead of backward. It couldn't be the way it was. But he still wanted to know how she was doing. He needed to know that, after a year, that she was happy. He wanted to know that she was being taken care of. Hatori wouldn't tell him, even though he was sure that he knew. Who else would know besides Tohru herself? Who would give him a straight answer?

He opened his eyes wide, suddenly knowing who he should be talking to. If he phrased his questions correctly, if he played the game exactly the right way, he could get the information he needed. It would definitely be harder than standing on the cold bridge, alone with his uncomfortable and conflicting emotions. It was really the last thing he wanted to do, but at the same time, maybe that was for the best. Maybe everything could be cleared up at once and maybe, there was the slight possibility of everyone getting what they wanted most.

All it would take was a well-planned meeting with Akito.


	8. It's a Damn Cold Night

**Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews and happiness, everyone. I'm beginning to be very fond of you few who tell me what you think every chapter (you're awesome!). We've been having issues with electricity in my area for the past two days, so I'm posting this chapter early in case something bad happens and I miss my window of opportunity. I'm pretty excited for you to read it, since it's one of my favorites so far and it's the beginning of the end. I'm eager to hear what you think (all of you!). Have a happy weekend.**

**Chapter Eight: It's a Damn Cold Night**

Hatori was lucky. The Sohma grounds were impressively large, but he just happened to stretch from his desk at precisely the right moment to see Yuki stalking towards Akito's rooms across the snowy courtyard. His interest peaked for a second. What would Yuki be doing voluntarily visiting the Sohma leader? It was common knowledge that their relationship was tragically one-sided. It was also no secret that Yuki was frightened of the family's head and kept his distance from him. Hatori thought he should follow the rat and try to eavesdrop on the certain unpleasant incident, but even as he rose from his chair to put on his coat he realized that he should do something else.

If Yuki were going to Akito, it would not end well. There would be raised voices, mostly on Akito's part. There might be violence, but Akito had never wounded Yuki physically as much as emotionally. Whatever Akito did to him would not be enough that it would require Hatori's medical attention immediately. However, what Yuki would do to Akito would require Hatori's quick response. He didn't have much time; they never spoke for long. In the end, Yuki would flee the scene and Akito would let him go, but would need to expel his frustration on something else.

Well right now, he had two something else's to mess with, and the outcome would be determined by what Yuki said. But either way, Hatori knew it would be devastating for Akito to find Kyo missing from the neko room and locked inside with Tohru Honda.

There was no time for him to enlist the assistance of anyone else who knew of this. Kazuma had returned home, and Shigure was too far away as well. He would have to escort Kyo back on his own, trusting that he would come along with him without trying to break free the moment he was outside of Tohru's walls. He tried to think of a good explanation, or some other tactic, as he slipped along the grounds towards Tohru's shed.

"You sure get a lot of visitors," Kyo said as he heard the key in the lock for the second time that day. He was only visited once in the neko room, and Hatori had already been earlier that morning to check on them and to bring Kyo a floor mat to sleep on, apologizing for his having spent two nights already without one and explaining that this was the first he could sneak it in. When he left, he had told them that they would be alone until tomorrow, so they weren't expecting anyone. They had been talking a little more about the old days, safe subjects, not delving anymore into the awful time when Tohru's memory was erased or even the uncomfortable awkwardness of Kyo's attempts at an escape plan.

Tohru looked confused, as if she wasn't certain if she had a lot of visitors or not. She was seated at the table, talking a little more freely without that terrible blankness, watching as Kyo familiarized himself with his new surroundings.

"Kyo," Hatori called softly as he entered their presence again. "You need to come with me." Kyo hesitated. He'd only just been brought to Tohru the day before yesterday, surely they weren't going to take him away already? She was talking now. She was going to eat dinner with him. Did they want him to help her out or what?

"I don't think so," Kyo said coldly, challenge in his tone. Now that he was here, he had no desire to go back to the neko room or anywhere else that Hatori chose to escort him. Tohru immediately tensed in her seat, so he grabbed on to her shoulders to keep her from running off and locking herself up again. He moved his hands in soothing circles to help keep her calm.

"Yuki's gone to see Akito," Hatori said quickly, gesturing for Kyo to join him by the door.

"So what?" Kyo asked, failing to see why anything those two did would be of any concern to him or Tohru. "It's not like that's never happened before."

"Of course it has, but it never turns out well. As soon as they're through, I know Akito is going to come to see one of you." Tohru drew her knees to her chest, making a frightened squeaking sound. Kyo glared at his cousin, daring him to say something else that might upset her. It had taken him all day to coax her back to the table. "If he finds you here, I don't know what will happen. What he'll do." Tohru whimpered, burying her face into her knees. Understanding blossomed in Kyo's consciousness, and he knew what Hatori was saying.

"Don't go," Tohru whispered desperately. "Maybe he won't come."

"It will be safer if we assume that he will, Tohru," Hatori said, matter-of-fact.

"Then what happens?" Kyo asked. "After he's done with us."

"I'll bring you right back here, as soon as it's safe to move you again. Now, please?"

"You understand, Tohru?" Kyo turned his attention to his friend, who lifted her head to stare at him with glistening eyes. "I'll be right back."

"But," Tohru sniffed. "What if he hurts you, Kyo?"

"I'll be with him," Hatori promised. "Where ever he goes, I'll go with him. Neither of you will be alone." Kyo looked his cousin in the eye, gauging his words. He knew Hatori was not a cruel man, but he also knew that he would not stand up to Akito, no matter what he did. And yet, Hatori had a good point. Who knew what Akito would do if he found them imprisoned together?

"We don't have a lot of time, Kyo," Hatori pressured him, again gesturing for him to come to his side. Kyo looked again at Tohru and made his decision.

"I have to go," he told her reassuringly. "But I'll be right back, ok? I won't be gone long at all."

"No," Tohru begged, curling up even tighter and digging her fingernails into her arm. "Please don't."

"Just for a little while, Tohru," Hatori said, though his voice was strained by the need to hurry Kyo out of there. "He really will be right back."

Kyo moved closer to his cousin, allowing him to grab on to his arm and tug him near the door. Kyo closed his eyes to the scene of Tohru sitting at the table, lost and frightened, knowing that even if she did do something to hurt herself it wouldn't be near the damage that Akito could inflict. Damn that stupid Yuki! Why did he have to show up and get Akito all fired up anyway? He hated Akito; he always went out of his way to avoid him. He wasn't supposed to do stupid things like walk right up to him.

He thought of pulling out of Hatori's grasp only once as they marched back to the neko room. His arm instinctively tightened, and Hatori jerked in response to the perceived change, but before he could really follow through, Kyo had thought better of it. Right now there were two captives that Akito could take his frustrations out on. If Kyo turned up missing, it would be worse for Tohru. He couldn't do that to her, even if it was so he could come back to save her. He doubted there would be anything left of her to save if she had one interlude with Akito, however brief.

"He may not come at all," Hatori said as he locked Kyo inside the familiar neko cage. "I just wanted to be safe, for her."

"Whatever," Kyo sighed, slumping against the bamboo slats and preparing for a confrontation that might not actually happen. "Just make sure if he does come out, he comes here instead of there. Right?"

"I don't like this, Kyo," Hatori said suddenly, causing Kyo to glance at his cousin without really turning to look at him. Hatori looked torn, tired, and even a little pathetic.

"You and me both," Kyo said, casually, pulling his emotions in as he spoke, tightening the strings on his anger, his fear, his pain. Akito had a knack for pulling those negative emotions out, for creating doubt and questions about why he even existed at all. He needed to shut down if he was going to make it back to Tohru unscathed enough to continue to help her get stronger, the way he'd promised.

"It'll be all right," Hatori said as he walked back toward the main house, but from the way his voice sounded, Kyo knew that he believed what he'd just said as much as Kyo had.

As he waited, Kyo's thoughts ran back to Tohru's shed. What was she doing now that she was alone again? Crying? Something else, something darker? He shook his head. Please don't do that, Tohru, he pleaded even though she could not hear him. Don't hurt yourself because of this. It's not worth it. It's not your fault. It's HIS fault. Yuki's. It's always Yuki's fault, from the very beginning.

As expected, the interview between Akito and Yuki was brief; Hatori was just coming toward the door when all sound inside stopped. Also as expected, Akito came storming out into the cold in nothing but his robe, bare feet and all. Hatori caught him by the shoulders just a few steps out his door. Yuki was nowhere in sight – probably already gone.

"What are you doing, Akito?" Hatori asked, concerned. "You shouldn't be out here dressed like that. Please-"

"It's your fault," Akito sneered, brushing off Hatori's hands. "Where have you been? Why aren't you ever with me when you should be?"

"I'm here now," Hatori said soothingly. "I'll stay with you. Come inside and you can tell me what's the matter."

Instead of moving, Akito glanced suspiciously over Hatori's shoulder, toward the neko room. "Were you with that thing?" He asked, a certain tone of jealousy in his voice. Hatori put his hands again on Akito's shoulders, hoping to gently turn him back to the warmth of his rooms.

"What are you talking about? I was just giving Kyo some food, that's all. Now, inside?"

"You were wasting your time with something like that!" Akito shrieked, unexpectedly. "Every time I turn around, it's always about that worthless cat! It's all anyone can talk about anymore."

Akito was pushing forward again, not in the direction Hatori hoped, despite his predictions. The only positive thing about the scenario was that the head of the house was most definitely going to see Kyo and not Tohru. With luck, nothing anyone said in the next few minutes would remind him that she was still here. Hatori thought most of the time Akito had fortunately forgotten her entirely.

"Akito, wait. It's too cold." But since he continued to walk as if the heat of his anger were making him impervious to the weather, Hatori took it upon himself to rush back into the house and get his warmer things for him. Now that he knew Kyo was the intended target, he felt a bit easier. He hurried inside, snatching up Akito's slippers and another robe to wrap him in. He needed to keep his strength up, especially now, right before the ceremony.

"Hatori?"

The voice broke into his preoccupation so suddenly he almost dropped what he held. He hadn't expected anyone to still be here. Yet Yuki crouched in the corner, his head down in a defeated sort of manner. So, there had been violence after all.

"Yuki? What are you doing here?" Hatori asked, torn between rushing back to where Akito was now confronting Kyo or staying with his already stricken cousin. There was just no end to the things needing his attention. "Are you hurt?"

Yuki's eyes were far away for a moment, Tohru's eyes. It bothered the dragon enough to pause in his haste to help Kyo and Akito to double check that the rat were really all right enough to wait until he returned. "Yuki?" Hatori knelt in front of him and pulled on his chin to lift his face to the light. The most immediately obvious wound was a harsh split in his lower lip, already swelling.

"Is this all?" Hatori asked quickly, needing to know if Akito had taken something with him to the neko room, if a weapon had been involved other than rage. It was no mistake that Yuki had suffered the most at Akito's hands, but he still was the favorite, and that meant that even in his anger, Akito would take his frustrations out on another family member before he would do permanent damage to Yuki. "Yuki? Can you stand up?"

"Yes," Yuki murmured, sorrowfully, angrily.

Hatori breathed relief. It would be fine physically, but again like Tohru, there was a lot of Yuki's hurt that he couldn't take away no matter what he did.

"Go to my room to wash it. I've got to get these out to Akito before he freezes to death, and then I'll come talk to you after. I'm sure you understand that he shouldn't catch you still here when he gets back."

With a bit more prodding of a physical nature, Yuki stood on his feet and started out of the room. Just as he was exiting, and just as Hatori was taking the first step outside, Yuki turned to ask one last question.

"Hatori," Yuki asked, his tone suggesting that he wasn't certain if he should be talking at all.

"What is it?"

"Where is Kyo?"

"Does it matter?"

Yuki shrugged, even though it was obvious that the answer meant a lot to him. "It's just that no one seems to know, and if no one knows where he is, why is that ok?"

"I know where he is, Yuki," Hatori answered, reassuringly. "Did Akito say that we didn't?" Yuki shrugged again and headed out, leaving Hatori confused. What had they spoken about? Why would they be talking about Kyo and not Tohru? Yuki always talked about Tohru, especially the last few weeks. His asking about Kyo always came second.

"I'll come see you soon," Hatori promised, hoping that Yuki would be waiting for him when he came back. He wanted to talk to him about this Kyo business. He wanted to know why he'd come to see Akito in the first place, what would prompt his anger or his curiosity enough to come willingly.

He tried to put it out of his mind as he rushed out of the house, and by the time he came within shouting distance of Kyo's prison, it was easy to focus on only one thing. Akito was in full form, screaming insults passionately at the cat, blaming him for the entire misery of the family, condemning him for actions that he had no control over or memory of. Worse, just as Hatori was close enough to see their forms between the bamboo, Akito struck his first blow, slapping Kyo full force across his face. Kyo dropped to the ground limply, and Hatori felt a burst of guilty compassion for the scape-goat of the Sohma family. Only this time Kyo was not taking the penalty for anyone he was related to. This time he was being as complacent as possible to allow Akito to spend all his rage on him without turning his attention to another, weaker, prisoner.

Akito hit Kyo twice more before Hatori could get inside. The dragon threw Akito's robe over him on the pretense that he was just thinking of keeping him warm when really he wanted to hold him back from doing any more damage.

Akito's frailty was well known throughout the household. He had days at a time where he simply did not have the strength to rise from his bed. He was prone to fevers and illnesses of all sorts due to the nature of his burden, but when the curse did not leave him prone, he was capable of a strength that rivaled any of the Sohma martial arts masters. The worst part about that terrible fact was that none of the family could really stand up to him unless they wanted even worse consequences. Even if Akito could not cause pain by physically hitting, he could take things away, lock people up, and hurt those closest to him. He was very good at getting his way, and it was no surprise that Kyo kept his mouth carefully shut even as Akito kicked him in the ribs while putting his arms through the sleeves of the heavier kimono Hatori had brought him.

"How could he possibly think that I'd let you be happy? That I would allow you what I denied him?" Akito was still speaking to Kyo, but no longer shouting. He panted from hate. Kyo looked at the floor. Hatori hoped he wasn't even listening. "Especially you! You're the reason every one has to suffer. If you weren't here, there would have been no reason to turn him against me. No reason for him to ask where she was. But you're a monster. A dangerous, blood-thirsty stupid monster! You ruined everything."

Kyo made his only mistake then. Hatori wasn't sure if he asked the question out of sheer, morbid curiosity, or to make sure that Akito stayed with him. Whatever the reason, it was definitely a mistake.

"What do you mean it's my fault? I'm not the one who tried to run away."

Akito's lips pulled back from his teeth, his eyes shining dangerously. In an abrupt and frightening motion he knelt by Kyo's head, lashing out, grabbing a handful of Kyo's hair, and tipping his head back so he could speak directly into his ear.

"But you did try," Akito whispered, eerily calm. "That's why you're here. That's why you're both here."

"Big deal," Kyo muttered through his teeth, his temper getting the better of him despite his position. "So what if he did leave?"

"You're an idiot," Akito snarled, jerking the handful of Kyo's hair held tight in his fist. "You don't have any idea how big of a deal it is."

"He's never gonna be what you think you want," Kyo challenged, and Hatori groaned inwardly. Be quiet, Kyo, he begged, wishing he could at least make eye contact with the cat. Just stop talking already, even if what you say is true.

His words earned him another strike across the face, and this time blood splattered on the mats. Kyo spit even more out, but his eyes were strong.

"Akito!" Hatori cried out in alarm. "Be careful." Akito ignored him, instead he used his free hand to grab Kyo's arm and pull the beads into the fading afternoon light.

"Do you know what these are?" Akito hissed.

"Yeah –" Kyo began, but Akito wrenched his head and shushed him.

"No, no you don't. You think you do. You all think you know everything, but if you really did you would treat me more respectfully. This, you wretched thing, is your real cage. Your protection."

"Akito, don't," Hatori implored, wondering if it would be best to physically restrain him from speaking. Kyo didn't know this truth yet, and Hatori saw no point in telling him.

"Shut up!" Akito snarled, and Hatori understood. It wouldn't help Kyo to try and interfere again.

"This keeps you from being a monster all the time," Akito said, his voice getting sweeter, clogging the air of the neko room. "But I, me, I keep you from losing your mind."

The expression on Kyo's face indicated that he thought Akito was the one who had lost his mind.

"You see that?" Akito asked, not expecting the answer, fingering the black beads that had once been red. "That's my blood on that. Mine! Because if you weren't tied to me, if I wasn't keeping it under control, you wouldn't exist. Do you want to be free? Do you want me to take the beads?"

"No," Kyo murmured, his voice tight.

"No? Because you want to pretend that you're not a monster."

"I'm not –"

"You are! Without these, you would look like one all the time. And without me, you would think like one too. Don't think I haven't thought about it. Don't think I haven't considered it every single day. I wish all the time that I could give it up. I hate you. I hate being bound to you. I hate that I have to sacrifice my life keeping you away from us. You were never a part of us, never had a place with us. There is no way I will ever, ever let you be happy. You will never get what you want; I'll make sure of that. I can't believe he ever thought to be jealous of you."

Akito shoved Kyo's head down, but didn't slam it on the floor. Kyo lifted his arm sharply, but it looked more a defensive gesture than anything else.

"I don't want to look at you anymore," Akito snapped, then turned to march out of the neko room. Hatori exchanged glances with Kyo, whose face was already bruising, blood dripping freely from the tear in his lip. He saw a slight nod and knew that he would be all right for a little while until it was safe to come back. He flanked Akito out of the cage and kept a step behind him all the way to the house.

"Are you all right, Akito?" He asked, hoping to soothe his anger before anything else happened. "Do you need anything?"

"Just a little respect," Akito spat. "You're all so ungrateful. You think I keep things from you, but I don't. I only keep one thing away from you and you are so lucky that I do!" Hatori didn't know what to say about this that wouldn't sound forced or false. He decided again to say nothing.

"He wanted to make a deal. I can't believe he thought it was a choice," Akito said, more to himself than Hatori. He could only assume he meant Yuki.

"What do you mean? What did Yuki say?"

"He said he would stay with me if I let him see that girl one more time. Can you imagine?"

"Is that why you hit him?" Hatori asked, though he wished he hadn't. Akito glared at him.

"Don't talk to me that way. You weren't here. You don't know how he looked at me. But no, that's not why. I told him the truth. I told him I was protecting him from her. Why doesn't he understand how much I do for him? He doesn't know what he almost did in running away from me. He doesn't understand what I saved him from by taking her away, and now all he wants to know is how she's doing. He wants to make sure that we didn't ruin her life. Isn't that the stupidest thing you've ever heard? Why does he make himself feel guilty over something so ridiculous?"

"What did you tell him?" Hatori was confused. He was not getting the clear picture of what had happened here. Yuki had come to ask about Tohru, but Akito ended up full of rage over Kyo? There was something not fitting.

"I told him that she was where I left her. I told him that if he kept asking about her, I would make sure there was nothing left of her to find, no trace at all. I said that Kyo saw her a little while ago and she was just fine without him. And he actually sounded jealous of that monster! He actually wished to see her one more time like Kyo did. As if he wanted to change places with him instead of me. I can't stand it. He was supposed to come to me, Hatori. He was supposed to think that everyone had moved on without him. There was supposed to be nothing left for him but me. How can I make that happen, Hatori? What should I do?"

Don't ask that, Akito, Hatori thought desperately. Don't put these questions to me. I have no answers. Yuki will never be indebted to you the way you want. He will never think of you the way you think he should. The picture you have painted by your actions will always overshadow the picture you give him in deception.

"Maybe an apology," Hatori suggested softly, but didn't make it any further than that.

"You've got to be joking!" Akito shrieked. "They should be apologizing to me! They should be thanking me every day that they wake up without fear. They should all be so grateful that they think of nothing but how to please me. That's what they should do. I'm not apologizing for anything I've done."

Hatori let his shoulders droop, defeated. This was all such a mistake. A mistake for Tohru to keep her locked up and alone. A mistake to think that by telling Yuki lies about Tohru's happiness that it would bring him back into a relationship that never really existed. Yuki would always keep his emotions closed from Akito. He would never spend time with him more than was absolutely necessary, and Hatori was certain that once the ceremony was complete, Yuki would cast Akito aside to suffer alone and never speak to him again.

"Get out of here," Akito said suddenly. "I want to be alone."

Grateful for the opportunity, Hatori bowed and ducked from the room, moving to his own house where hopefully Yuki was still waiting for him. He hoped to get a clearer picture of what went on from him.

"Yuki, good, you're still here," Hatori said as he entered, trying to keep his voice free from all the horror of the afternoon. Yuki stood leaning against Hatori's desk, his eyes out the window, watching the sunset. He turned at Hatori's voice, his swollen lip marring his features.

"I don't suppose you want to tell me what happened?" Hatori asked, hoping he wouldn't have to dig for the information he needed. "What did you think he was going to tell you? He said you tried to make some kind of deal?"

"It was stupid," Yuki said softly, and Hatori agreed in his mind, but knew that saying so out loud wouldn't help him learn what he wanted to know.

"He said that you would stay with him if he let you see Tohru one more time. Is that right?"

"I just want to make sure she's ok," Yuki said. "She doesn't have anyone but us. We were supposed to be her family, and I don't want any mistake on my part to have cost her happiness. You won't tell me, but I thought if I gave him something he wanted that Akito might."

"Is that what this is all about? Because you feel guilty about what happened to Tohru?"

"Of course I do. It's all my fault. She was punished for something I did like it was all her idea. I thought if I went to Akito the way he wanted, he would let us take care of her again. I wouldn't have to see her, but Kyo could make sure she was ok."

"You'd give up your freedom so Kyo could be with Tohru?" Hatori asked, making sure he was understanding what he was hearing.

"She should be with us," Yuki said determinedly. "She should never have been taken, and my looking for her isn't working. I knew that Kyo found her a little while ago, and I didn't know what kind of consequences there would be for that. I've been going to Hinoi every night to try and find her, to make sure that nothing's happened."

Hatori didn't speak while he looked at Yuki's lip, knowing that there was nothing he could really do for it. Knowing that there was no way to undo anything that had happened. He thought of Kyo and Tohru together in her prison, and he hoped that Yuki was right in thinking that he could make sure she was fine.

"But he got angry," Yuki went on. "He said that there was no choice in staying with him. That there was no choice in the ceremony like I thought there was. He told me that Tohru is fine, happier without us. Is that true, Hatori? Can you tell me?"

"It's true," Hatori said, feeling horrible about telling his cousin the biggest lie he had ever uttered.

"And Kyo hasn't been to see her again? Akito is leaving her alone?"

"So far so good," Hatori lied, just wanting to make things better for Yuki for just a while longer until he could tell him the whole truth without fear. "But she's no longer in Hinoi."

Yuki tipped his head up, surprised. "What do you mean? Where is she?"

"I moved her," Hatori confessed, still lying even though he was telling the truth. "I moved her to protect her until the ceremony is over. You won't find her by going to Hinoi."

"I see," Yuki said, sounding defeated. "You probably can't tell me where she is?"

"That's not a good idea, Yuki," Hatori sighed, wishing his cousin wouldn't ask these things, wishing he wasn't always put in the worst position. "It won't be for much longer."

"Are we finished?" Yuki asked, dropping the subject as he drooped his shoulders. Hatori nodded. The rat turned to leave, his expression wounded.

"Yuki?" Hatori called him on his way out. He paused at the doorway, but didn't look back. "It's all going to work out," Hatori promised, hoping his words were the truth. Yuki took another step away, and Hatori knew that he didn't believe him.

He took a moment to himself then, preparing a medical kit to take to the neko room, readying himself to piece together another psyche. More damage control. It was shocking to see how much emotional injury could be ripped open in one afternoon. Akito was angry that Yuki hadn't done what he'd expected him to do. Yuki was overwhelmed with his original guilt and the new knowledge he'd gained of Tohru's move and the truth of his place at the ceremony. Tohru was upset about her separation from Kyo, even though she hadn't wanted him to come at first, and Kyo was, as usual, bearing the brunt of all the misunderstandings.

The cat hadn't moved from the floor when Hatori made it back to him, which concerned him slightly. It wasn't like Kyo not to bounce back right away. Yet when he opened the door, he did rise, a little gingerly. Hatori breathed a small sigh of relief that he wasn't too seriously hurt to move on his own.

"Finally," Kyo said, the bruise under his eye and blood on his chin making his expression fierce.

"Sorry, Kyo," Hatori apologized. "I had to see to Akito and Yuki before I could come back out."

"That stupid rat," Kyo hissed. "He always ruins everything."

"I'm sure he'd say the same about you. He just wanted to make sure Tohru was ok."

"It's his fault she's not," Kyo shot back.

"He knows that. He feels horrible about it."

"Good."

Hatori shook his head, wishing that things weren't that way between them. He turned Kyo's face up to inspect the damage. There was a swollen bruise against his cheek, and he also sported a split lip. Things that looked awful, hurt a lot, and had to be left to heal on their own.

"Does he know?" Kyo asked abruptly, confusing Hatori.

"Who? Know what?" He asked as he tested Kyo's ribs for breaks. There was certainly some discomfort judging by Kyo's tightened expression and fidgeting, but he doubted that the kick had been hard enough to crack anything. It would be sore for a while too.

"Does Yuki know that Tohru's here?"

"No. Tohru's here because Akito doesn't want Yuki to know anything about her right now. It'll be different after the ceremony, though."

"Why? How is that going to fix anything?"

"I don't think you fully understand what the ceremony means. It's true that it refreshes the bond that the head of house has with you. It renews the power of the beads and changes the entire order of the Sohma household. Whoever holds your bond leads the clan. You were too young to remember the last ceremony when you were bonded to Akito, but you'll have several more in your lifetime. This one will take place soon, about a month, I think, and then Yuki will be in charge, the new head of house. He'll get to make the decisions, and I'm sure that the first one he'll make will be to bring Tohru back into the family if she still wants to be there."

"I see. He'll probably leave me here."

"That's not his choice, Kyo," Hatori explained, needing Kyo to understand that this wasn't anything that anyone had against him, exactly.

"You just said he'd be making all the choices."

"I know, but this is different. You'll be here, but only because you're older than Yuki. That's why Akito said you'd be here after graduation. He knew that's when Yuki would take over, and once he does, once the head of house is younger than the cat, that's when he's locked in here. It's been that way from the beginning."

"Why didn't anyone tell us?"

"The full details of the curse are disturbing, Kyo. The ones that know them try to make it so the ones that don't can live as normal of a life as they can."

"Oh yeah. Akito's been all about making sure that we lead normal lives."

"I know Akito's ways are different-"

"It doesn't matter. I'll be here. She'll be free. He'll get his way. I get it."

"I'm sorry, Kyo."

"Does that mean I'll be bound to Yuki the way I'm bound to Akito?" Kyo asked, his hand clamped tight around his opposite wrist, around his beads. "Are we going to be stuck together until one of us dies?"

"No, well, not exactly." Hatori was getting uncomfortable. He'd almost rather Kyo were still not speaking to him. And yet, after all he'd been through, he knew that he should know all that was happening, or could happen, to him. "Akito's position in the zodiac is temporary, about a generation or so. When the cycle starts again, a new rat is born and the current rat takes the place of the head of house."

"And what happens to Akito?"

"He will no longer be a part of the zodiac," Hatori said, knowing it would enrage the cat.

"So the rat gets out?" He asked, shocked. "Akito was once a rat?"

"Akito was only the rat for a few years before Yuki was born, before he became head of house. It was very unusual to have a new one so close together. The ceremony was rushed – there have been consequences."

"Who was the head of house before Akito? What happened to him?"

"He's gone," Hatori confessed, being cryptic on purpose and hoping his answer wouldn't prompt more discussion on the topic. "The burden of the curse doesn't allow those freed rats an extended or comfortable life."

"Is that why the last ceremony was rushed?"

Hatori puzzled what he meant, unused to Kyo being perceptive this way. Kyo glanced at the dragon before clarifying. "Did the curse kill him too quickly?" He rephrased the question, and Hatori felt cold.

"It wasn't the curse, but I don't remember it very well," he confessed, even though he did remember. It had been a horrific, unsettling incident, and his introduction to the truth of the curse. Usually a bonding ceremony was well planned, carefully executed, but the leader then didn't have much time. It hadn't been the curse that had killed him, not exactly. He had made the decision to take his own life. His body had been found by chance, and while the family knew there was nothing they could do to save him, they understood that they had to act fast to save themselves. Akito was extremely young; Hatori was young, and neither had really known what they were doing. Kyo was too young to even walk. Hatori remembered shadowy figures entering his bedroom, yanking him from under the covers and tugging him into the room where the head of the Sohma household had decided to kill himself. Hatori could still see his dark shape curled on the floor, breathing but only just. He had stood still, staring, while his older relatives bustled around him, pulling his hands, whispering phrases into his ear of what he should say, shoving a bowl of blood against his torso in rapid, jittery bits of motion. He remembered hurriedly brushing the beads, tracing a knife down Akito's moon-like skin, how the boy's eyes grew large and terrified every time the man who had once been the leader made a sound, understanding only that he would become like him because of what was going on. He remembered how Kyo had cried when the knife touched him, and how hard it had been for Hatori to sleep after it was done. How no one had really explained to him what had happened until many years later and how it still scared him when he thought about it.

"Will it hurt?" Kyo said, harshly, bringing Hatori up short.

"What do you mean?" He asked, his memory evaporating slowly as he pulled his thoughts back to where he stood in the neko room.

"Yuki. Will I hurt him like Akito?"

Hatori hesitated in his answer. Did he want Kyo to have that much control over Yuki? What would he do with it if he knew? But Kyo didn't look like anyone who wanted revenge. He looked genuinely sad about the whole process, about his existence. He looked injured, inside and out.

"The bond will be the same," Hatori revealed. "It will do the same things to Yuki as it does to Akito. That is the burden of being the rat."

"Why?" Kyo pressed, as if he wanted to know all the mysteries of the curse all at once. "Why is it like that? Why does what I feel affect them?"

"That's just how it is," Hatori said again. "It's been like this from the beginning. The rat binds the cat to him. The cat is kept isolated. The ceremony renews the bond. There's no why –"

"What am I?" Kyo asked abruptly, and Hatori closed his eyes, wishing he could pretend that question hadn't been asked. He had been lying to Kyo. There was a why, a very big reason why things were in place this way. "Why does everyone hate me so much? Akito said, and don't ask me why I care what he said, but he said that he made it so I didn't think like a monster. What the hell does that mean? Why does everyone treat me like I've got a disease? Like I'm dangerous? What would happen if there was no new rat to take over the bond?"

Hatori looked at him hard. Did he really want to know? Should he actually answer?

"What does the curse mean, Hatori?" Kyo demanded. "I know you know."

"Sit down," Hatori heard himself say, feeling that this was what he should do even though he didn't really know if it was a good idea. "I'll tell you."


	9. Won't You Take Me By The Hand?

**Author's Note: Wow, I'm really happy by all of the reviews I received for the last chapter! It makes me want to rush through the updates to the end so I can hear what you think Right Now. But instead, we're going to slow things way down. This chapter was written right after the first (because I never write things chronologically), ten years ago. I once thought about cutting it entirely, but there is some nostalgic sweetness here that I wanted to preserve, just so I can look at it someday and think to myself, "yeah, your writing did change." So I've massaged it gently, but most of this is just the way I had it a decade ago. Hope you like it.**

**Chapter Nine: Won't You Take Me By the Hand?**

"Kyo!" Tohru squeaked worriedly as Hatori helped him back into her shed. There was still enough light to make out the marks on his face, and Tohru's hands smoothed his hair out of his eyes so she could inspect them when he'd barely taken two steps in the door. "What happened? Are you all right?"

"Pull out a chair so he can sit down, please, Tohru," Hatori instructed, giving Kyo more time to collect himself.

"Oh! Of course," she said, rushing away and busying herself with the chair. Kyo shrugged Hatori off him and made it there on his own power. He slumped into the seat, more mentally drained than physically hurt. He hadn't said a word after Hatori finished telling him everything he'd asked to know. He hadn't protested when Hatori suggested they go back to Tohru to make sure she was all right. He had completely shut down.

Tohru perched in the chair next to him, her hands moving aimlessly. She brushed the bruise on Kyo's cheek, she touched his shoulder, she considered his face again.

"Calm down, Tohru," Hatori commanded, and she pulled away from Kyo to look at him. He couldn't be certain, but there looked to be the slightest trace of accusation in her expression. He remembered promising her that Kyo wouldn't be hurt. "It could have been a lot worse."

"What happened?" Tohru asked again.

"Nothing we didn't anticipate. Kyo will be fine, just a little sore for a few days. We're actually pretty fortunate."

Kyo made a dissatisfied sort of noise, but didn't raise his eyes to either of them.

"Are you sure?" Tohru asked, not sounding convinced. She glanced at the cat, her expression extremely concerned.

"It's fine," Kyo said without any conviction. "Don't worry about it."

"I've done all I can do," Hatori said, feeling horrible about it. "Tohru will take good care of you from here, I'm sure."

"I made some noodles," Tohru said in a rush. "Are you hungry? Do you want some?"

Kyo stared at the table. "I," he started, his face twisted in an expression Hatori couldn't read. "Yeah, ok," he finished, and Hatori knew he was only accepting because he wanted to make sure Tohru ate with him. She rose quickly and began bustling about her tiny stove with bowls and chopsticks.

"I'll be back in the morning to check on you," Hatori promised, wanting nothing more than to get out of sight of Kyo's tortured expression. Had he made a good choice answering those questions? Would it have been better if he'd made something up, if he hadn't said anything at all?

Kyo lifted his head and looked at him carefully, his eyes heavy with doubt. They pleaded with Hatori, and he knew exactly what Kyo was afraid of. He looked at Tohru, still ladling out portions of broth, vegetables, and noodles before turning his attention back to the cat.

"You're safe now," he said, lacing his tone with a message meant only for Kyo. "It's safe." Kyo's shoulders relaxed slightly, but Hatori could tell that he was still extremely bothered by what had happened and what he had learned. "You don't have to do anything except rest up for a while. Tohru?"

"Yes?" She said, her eyes very wide at being called.

"Make sure Kyo rests comfortably and doesn't do anything too strenuous until his ribs heal a little, all right?"

"Yes!" She said, accepting her mission seriously. Kyo groaned almost inaudibly and put his head down on the table. "Kyo!" She squeaked. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," Kyo said to the wood, and Hatori backed away from the scene, getting a strange amusement from how normal they looked. Kyo sporting bruises, Tohru fussing over him with an apron covering her clothes and a big spoon in her hand, wondering what she should do to help him feel better and not dwelling on her own darkness. If it weren't for the fact that he locked the door behind him as he left, it would almost be the way it used to be.

Except it wouldn't, not ever again. Kyo knew the whole truth now, and Hatori didn't feel any lighter for having shared it. This wasn't how it should have been. The transition from Akito to Yuki should have been so simple. If only Yuki had thought a little more before trying to take Tohru away. If only Kyo hadn't been so stupid about confronting her after the start of her new life. If only Akito had been more truthful with Yuki from the start. Hatori shrugged. Wishing never really helped anyone. Things were the way they were, and the only thing to do now was try to salvage what was left.

"Yuki, hi!" Miki called as she caught sight of him standing in his usual spot on the bridge. He didn't know why he'd come tonight. He knew now that she would never be there, yet he'd been coming so long it felt odd not to make the familiar drive, park his car at the grocery store on the corner, and take the steps up to the center of the bridge. He was considering all that Akito had told him so hard, he wasn't sure he knew he was coming until he was already here.

He turned to watch Miki walk up the bridge, the cup of tea steaming in her hand just like the previous two evenings. Her step was resolute and calm, her face open and friendly. She wore a satchel slung across her shoulder over her dark brown coat. He could just see wisps of brown hair peeking out from under her hat. Her nose and cheeks were turning red from the cold.

"Hi," he finally responded to her greeting when she was close enough to hear him without his having to shout. He turned to face her as she handed him the customary cup of tea, but he froze in concern as the friendly smile on her face vanished into a look of horror.

"What's the matter?" He asked her worriedly, not accustomed to seeing expressions like that on her petite face.

"No kidding," she said, putting the tea in his hands and then reaching out to cup his cheek, turning his face until she could see all of it at once. "What happened to you?"

At first he didn't know what she was talking about, but then he remembered his conversation with Akito hours earlier. He'd been thinking so much about what he'd said that he'd almost forgotten about what he'd done. Self-consciously he pulled his lower lip inside his mouth, running his tongue over the injury, before returning his expression to normal and turning his face out of her hand.

"Yuki?" Miki asked, bending down to look him in the eye again. "Are you all right? Did someone hit you? Were you mugged or something? Did you call the police?"

"No," he answered, making a calming motion with his hand. "This is nothing, and I wasn't mugged. Don't worry about it."

"Why not? It looks awful. If no one hit you, what did happen?"

Yuki shook his head. He couldn't answer her. He knew it wasn't a normal thing for relatives to strike each other and leave marks like this. Hatori's eyes flickered through his thoughts momentarily, and he closed his, putting his hand on the bridge railing to keep him grounded in reality.

"You don't look so good," Miki went on even though he hadn't answered her. "Don't you think you should at least have it looked at?"

"It was," he assured her softly, standing straight. "There's really nothing wrong." He looked away, down to the water rushing beneath him. He thought of Kyo and Tohru, who met on this bridge, now somewhere far away from him. What was he doing here? He startled slightly as he felt something warm cover his hand, but relaxed when he saw Miki's mitten resting on top of his glove on the railing. When he looked in her eyes, they were intense.

"Yes, there is," she said, firmly. "More than your lip, more than you spending every night on the bridge. Something is definitely wrong, and I want to fix it."

Yuki raised an eyebrow at her. She was so set on him, so genuine.

"Why?" he felt compelled to ask. He'd barely said ten words to her in three days, yet she brought him tea and smiled like she was happy to see him. "Why do you care so much?"

She removed her hand, shoving it deep into her pocket, suddenly shy and embarrassed. "I don't have a good answer," she confessed, but went on to try and explain. "I guess it's because your eyes look like hers did."

"What do you mean?" Yuki asked, wondering if she did know something about him, wondering if she did have an answer he wanted. Miki shrugged, turning and leaning against the bridge, looking up into the night sky.

"My friend," she said. "Her eyes were empty too, and I didn't know how to help her. She acted like nothing was wrong, and I let her pretend too, even though it was like she didn't know who she was or where she was supposed to go. She was so lost, and I just let her do what she wanted, thinking that she wouldn't want me to interfere. But that was a mistake. She stood on this bridge once too, thinking about jumping off." Miki paused, as if this memory were difficult for her.

"She didn't?" Yuki asked, unable to finish the question completely.

"No," Miki said, smiling sadly, "But not because of anything I did." She looked at Yuki again, determinedly. "I'm not going to be responsible for anything like that again."

"I'm not going to jump off the bridge," Yuki assured her, trying his charming smile again and finding that he couldn't quite pull it off with his lip split.

"You don't have to," she answered quietly. "You're wasting your life anyway."

Her words put him on the defensive, made him angry. She didn't understand anything about it. His life was spoken for already, one hundred percent. There was no choice; Akito told him. He would be bound to the cat, to the curse, at the cost of his life. He couldn't escape; he couldn't say no. How could he waste a life that wasn't his to begin with?

"You don't have to do this on your own," Miki continued, ignoring how Yuki had bristled at her last comment. "I'm sure there are people who want to help you, who want you to be happy. I don't know what you want from the girl you're waiting for, but I do know that if you can't even figure out what you want to say to her, then it won't give you what you need even if she does come."

"She won't come," Yuki said, hearing Akito gloat about how he would never find a trace of her, threatening that there might not be anything left to find. Who knows where she'd been moved?

"What? How do you know?" Miki asked, staring at him curiously.

"She's not here anymore," he said, knowing that would sound weird. But then again, he hadn't ever said anything to Miki that hadn't been weird, and yet she was still standing here with him.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know. I just know she's not here."

"Then why are you here?" Miki asked the question Yuki had pondered ever since he realized he was once again driving to Hinoi. He'd asked himself when he didn't turn around. He asked himself why he got out of the car. But he truly had no reason except for an unidentified pull that drew him there, an eager but uneasy anticipation.

"I don't know," Yuki said again, and Miki sighed in exasperation.

"Yuki, that doesn't make any sense," she lectured, and he knew that was true. "Even if you said you just like to watch the water in the dark, it would be better than no reason at all. What is it that you want?"

"I want to be free," Yuki said before he even realized he was speaking. His answer surprised him. Free from what? The curse? From the feelings of guilt that haunted him all the time? What did he mean when he said that and where had those words come from?

"Ah!" Miki said, her smile returning. "Good. You do have something to start with. I was starting to think you were completely hopeless."

"It doesn't do me any good," Yuki returned. "What good is a hope when there's no way of ever getting it?" The way she talked, it made it sound so easy. She made it sound like there was a way of controlling his own destiny.

"You make a way," Miki said, determined. "You figure it out, and you make it happen."

"What if you already had it and it was taken away from you? What then?"

"What are you talking about?" Miki looked pleased that he was finally talking about something, but confused at the same time.

"It doesn't matter," Yuki sighed, putting his own hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders so his coat collar would warm his ears. "It just doesn't work that way for me."

"It does," Miki promised, raising her hands for emphasis. "Look – no one can take hope away from you like it's your lunch money or your favorite scarf. Just like no one can give you happiness or forgiveness. The only thing anyone can really take or give is their love and support, but you have to be in charge of your own hope and happiness. There isn't anyone coming along this bridge that can change that for you. You have to do it on your own."

Yuki stared at her, wondering about her conviction.

"Are you happy?" He asked her suddenly, without really meaning to. She smiled, a slight upturn of her lips.

"I'm late," she said without answering, brushing past him, shaking her head on the way.

Kyo talked Tohru out of fussing over him and into taking a bath when the sun had gone down. He filled the tub for her after he had finished with his own and even put in some bubble bath solution he found by the sink. He supposed Hatori had tried, in his way, to make her as comfortable as he could. That didn't make anything better, but at least he had tried.

"Take as long as you want," he told her, closing the door and moving back to the main living area. He listened carefully to her faint sounds as she went through the motions of washing her hair. He felt sad at her silence. She almost always hummed while she did these sorts of things, taking a bath, washing dishes, folding laundry. It was as if she were so full of joy that she couldn't help but sing about it all the time. He felt sorry for the times when he had asked her if she couldn't knock it off for a while.

He stretched out on her bed with his arms behind his neck, thinking of possible ways to escape the life that had been planned for him before he was born. He knew now that the cat must be locked up when he became older than the head of house, but he wasn't that much older than Yuki, just a few months. What if some other arrangement could be reached? What if he kicked down the door and just fled with Tohru into the night, never to be seen again? How far would the curse follow him? What if something happened, and he was far away from the protection that the Sohma house offered. He growled. If only he hadn't been the cat. He would also hope that he wouldn't be any part of the zodiac, but that was too foreign for him. At least, he thought, if he had been born under the sign of the dog or the dragon, he would have been allowed a little more freedom. He wouldn't have to remain so close, kept under such careful watch. But even Hatori hadn't really been free. His life would have been so dramatically different if Akito had made a different choice. How much independence could you possibly have when someone else got to make all your decisions for you? Important decisions like whether or not you could be with the person you loved. It had never worked out for as long as Akito had been in charge. And when Yuki took his place, Kyo didn't think that would make much of a difference, especially for him.

Yuki, he thought bitterly. He'd been told that bit about being locked up after graduation before. Akito had used it as a way to taunt him for years, but the part about Yuki taking over the family was new. Kyo didn't even think that Yuki knew about it; if he had, wouldn't he also have used it was a way to get at him? And they'd share the curse bond. Kyo's face twisted involuntarily in disgust. Imagine! Tied to that infuriating pretty boy for a generation! Kyo gasped as a current of pain laced his ribs, not realizing how tightly he'd curled up on the bed, how much his thoughts and feelings were affecting him physically.

He forced himself to relax, realizing that there was one good thing that would come from this. He didn't have to plan an escape for Tohru. One was already waiting for her at the end of the ceremony, if she chose that life.

And he did want it to be her choice. He had always wanted for her to say what she wanted, to make her own decisions instead of just going along with what she thought everyone wanted her to do. Maybe if she'd paid more attention to her needs instead of depending on what other people thought of her, she wouldn't be in the mess she was now. You can't please everyone. Eventually, you're going to run into someone who thinks you did something wrong. Like Akito, who had taken away all their choices anyway.

Kyo twisted on the mattress, trying to find a comfortable position. He'd already asked Tohru what she wanted, but now maybe that wasn't the best idea. Even if she did choose, would she be able to get what she wanted? What if she decided she wanted to stay with him, for instance? How would that work?

It wouldn't. He already knew that, and what Hatori had told him tonight proved it with no room left for doubt. So even though it hurt, and even though it went against anything he'd told her before about how she should live her life, Kyo didn't think it would be the right thing to allow Tohru her own choices anymore.

It would be best, he thought, if Tohru didn't decide to be with him. If she chose Yuki, or even if she chose to remain alone, that would be the right decision. It would even be easier for him to submit to the prison of the neko room if he knew that there really wasn't any person outside of the family who would care what happened to him. If she didn't want to be with him, how hard would it then be to hide himself away? Forgotten by all? He didn't need her anyway, did he? No, not really. He had always been fine by himself. It was when he trusted people that he got himself into trouble. Look at Kazuma! His most reliable friend who had held onto him so fiercely to make sure he didn't run off. If his betrayal felt like this, then it really would be better if he started detaching himself from Tohru now. It would be easier. It would be safer for her. Tomorrow morning, Kyo decided, he would ask Hatori to return him to the neko room. Akito would have nothing to fear. Tohru would be happier without him.

She could be happy with Yuki, he decided. Yuki had so much going for him. He was about to become the head of house, and that meant that he could make the decisions. If he wanted to be with Tohru, all he had to do was say the word. And if he said another word, he could command that Kyo disappear forever.

Kyo turned over on his side, facing the wall. How stupid he had been to think that he could compete with that. How blind he had been not to realize that all of this was just a waste of time. His thinking that he could kidnap Tohru and escape was a joke. Of course this was how it would all work out. Once Yuki was in charge, Hatori would let him know about Tohru. Then he would sweep in and free her from every care she had ever had. She could stay with the Sohmas and be herself again. She would forget about him. It would be so easy if he could just help her wait long enough for that dumb ceremony.

It wouldn't be easy for him, though. He couldn't free himself let alone Tohru. As these thoughts rushed through him, he clenched at Tohru's pillow, burying his face deep inside it and inhaling her scent, horrified by what Hatori had told him about himself. It would never be fair, he realized. There would never come a magical point in his life where things would suddenly reverse themselves. He would always be the cat. There was nothing he could do.

"Kyo?" He jerked upright, unaware that Tohru was standing in the room with him. He had been so caught up in his personal torment that he hadn't heard her come in. He could barely make her out in the darkness, but he thought she looked a little better tonight despite the commotion of the afternoon. Her hair was hanging down to her shoulders in soft, wet tangles and she had put on a fresh pair of pajamas. And the expression on her face now was one he was very familiar with. It was concern.

"Are you all right?" She asked, coming to sit on the edge of the bed with him, reaching out timidly to gently touch the injuries on his face.

"Yeah, peachy," he told her bitterly, hoping to keep his voice as emotionless as possible and failing. "Being locked in this stupid shack is just what I've always wanted." Just one more night, he thought, and then I'll get out of here.

"Kyo," Tohru continued as if he hadn't said anything. "I've been thinking about what you said earlier." He raised a hand to stop her.

"So have I, Tohru, and you don't have to worry about it. I'm going to ask Hatori to take me back to the neko room in the morning."

Her eyes darkened at his words. "The neko room?" She questioned. "But why?"

"Because it's just no good. I can say all the pretty words I want, but honestly, I have nothing that I can give you. I can't escape from this family, especially when Yuki takes over. Even though I say that we could run away somewhere, it would work just about as well as when I tried to do it the first time. It's dangerous. I'm dangerous. But Yuki can give you what you need. Once this ceremony is done, Hatori will tell him that you're here and then things can go back to the way they used to be."

"That's not true." Tohru curled herself onto the covers beside him. She rested her head in his lap while he stared down at her nervously. "It would never be the same. If you were locked up somewhere, I could never be happy."

"Tohru."

"I was thinking about it all the time you were gone." Now she reached her hand to where his lay on the blanket, clinging to his fingertips as she talked. "It's taken me a long time to remember that day that Hatori took my memory the first time. At first I thought it was just because it was so horrible that I didn't really want to see it again, but then I realized that it was because it was a lie."

Kyo pushed himself further up the bed so he was no longer just propped up on his elbows uncomfortably, his ribs protesting strongly each movement he made. He almost didn't dare move, but knew that he would have to shift positions if he were going to be able to listen to her properly. Tohru also altered her position to keep her head in his lap and her hand in his hand.

"When Yuki asked me to go with him, I just said all right without even thinking about it. It made him so happy, and it wasn't until we were at the train station that it occurred to me that he meant for us not to come back." She paused then, reliving difficult memories. Those memories for Kyo were also particularly painful. He hadn't been at the train station when Hatori, Akito, and Shigure went to pick Yuki and Tohru up. He had just seen them arrive back at the Main House, where he had been sent to wait. He couldn't remember all of the commotion that happened when they all sat together in Akito's room. He'd been invited in, but he couldn't understand why. Akito screamed at Yuki, but mostly at Tohru. She'd looked so confused and upset. She had begged Akito's forgiveness, but there was none.

"The worst memory I have of that day," Tohru continued in her soft voice. "The very worst was when Yuki and I walked past you into Akito's room. The look on your face," she paused to swallow hard and her voice wasn't as steady when she continued. "That hurt me more than anything else Akito said. I'm not even sure I heard all of it. I was so sad that I had hurt you that way. You looked so betrayed. I told you once that the thing I wanted most was for us to stay together. I wanted you to understand that I hadn't known Yuki's true plan until it was too late to explain to you why I had gone with him. But now I remember, and now I know that even though I love Yuki very much, it's you that I want to stay with, even if it means staying locked up."

"You understand," Kyo said, slowly, turning his eyes to the blank wall beside the bed, refusing to acknowledge that her words were rushing his pulse. "That once Yuki becomes the head of the family, Hatori is going to tell him where you are? He'll be in charge then, and you know, once he takes Akito's place, he won't be the rat anymore." Kyo had to stop again, wishing he could just race through his words to make them come out easier. But, really, should he finish what he was going to say? Why are you trying to talk her out of this, Kyo?

Because, honestly, more than anything he wanted her to be safe, and right now the furthest she could get from him the safer she would be.

"And if he's not the rat," he finished. "He'll be able to hold you. He won't transform anymore."

Tohru lifted her head to consider him, eyes shining very bright. "Yuki is going to be the new head of the Sohma family?"

"Yes," Kyo mostly sighed, knowing what that would mean for him. He was unprepared for the reaction his answer caused.

"But that's wonderful!" The sudden happiness in Tohru's voice brought Kyo's full attention back to her. Of course such news would make her happy, he thought. She could have the life of every other normal girl her age, and all this time spent in this room with him would be forgotten forever. She might even ask Hatori to take these days away. "Don't you see?" Tohru continued, her eyes brighter than Kyo remembered even when he thought of her back in better times. "Yuki can fix everything!"

"Tohru," Kyo began, but didn't get very far. Her hand moved from clinging to his fingertips to fully grip his palm and she pressed her body as close to his as she could without putting him in danger of a transformation.

"Yuki isn't like Akito," Tohru explained. "He's a much gentler person. I know you two don't get along, but I don't think he'll keep you locked away once he gets to make the decision. I guess there's a good reason for keeping us here until it happens, but it probably won't be much longer and then you and I can be together like we always were."

"But what about Yuki?" Kyo's question dropped her smile for an instant, then changed it to one that was so sweetly sad that he didn't know if he wanted to jump away from her or pull her up tight.

"I'll have to talk to him," she said. "We'll all have to tell the truth. He'll understand. You all have been so kind and have always wanted me to be happy. He'll let us be together. He's not like Akito."

"Tohru," Kyo started again, not really wanting to tell her this because she was more alive now than he had seen her since she had been taken away from them. However, he didn't want to give her any false hope either. "It's not that easy. Even when Yuki is the head of house, that won't change anything for me."

"What?" Tohru's face fell into confusion and despair. Kyo had to shut his eyes and turn his face away to keep talking.

"The decision to keep me in the neko room isn't one that's made by Akito or Yuki. The only thing that matters is my age. I'm older than Yuki, and once the cat becomes older than the head of house, he must be locked up."

"I don't understand," Tohru's voice was soft again, and Kyo could feel her fingers grow listless in his.

"It's part of the curse; there's nothing to understand. It's part of being the cat."

"Is that why you hate Yuki so much?" Earlier this morning, Kyo would have given anything for Tohru to talk to him. Now, he was starting to prefer that she be silent. These questions were too hard. There was more to it that he just couldn't tell her. That he could never tell her, even though she had seen his secrets, even though she had carried him home after that night. There were some things that he didn't want to think about.

"Hardly," he forced a laugh with the word. "He's the rat, isn't he? The whole reason the cat is cursed is because of the rat. I'll always hate him."

"But you said yourself that he won't be the rat anymore." Kyo couldn't answer that. Even if Yuki were no longer the rat, he still would be the reason that Kyo had to suffer. Because he'd been born after Kyo. Because he made Kyo older even though he was only nineteen. And when he'd had Kyo locked away, because there was no other choice, he would take Tohru back into the Main House and he would have everything that Kyo ever wanted. And he wouldn't even know how to appreciate it.

"It doesn't matter, Tohru," he finally concluded, not being able to explain himself anymore. "It'll all be fine for you, don't worry."

"I'm not worried about me, Kyo," her voice carried an edge that he'd never heard before. "I told you I could never be happy if you're locked away. I'll stay with you. We can be locked up here, forever. When you found me on the bridge, I told you about being afraid of Akito, but more than that, it was because I was so empty inside. It was because I missed you, Kyo. You forget that I've already had a chance to make this choice the first night you ran away. It was so hard, everything inside me said that I should let you run, that I should forget about you and do what was easiest for me. And it would have been easier to go back inside and pretend that I'd never seen you. It would have been easier in some ways, but it would have been another lie. The truth is Kyo that I don't want to forget you. I don't want to leave you. I don't want to be with anyone else. It may be selfish, but I would rather stay locked in this room with you than go back out there alone, and I don't want you to go back to the neko room. I don't want you to go anywhere without me because I love you, Kyo."

Kyo didn't know how to respond to her, mostly because he didn't know exactly what her words meant to him. His body was tight with emotion, but he didn't know which ones. Part of him was relieved and thrilled that he had been her final choice. Another part was angry at her. What kind of idiot makes a choice like that when another decision was so obviously better? The anger pulled up the strongest emotion, the one that he eventually settled into, suspicion. Did she really know what she wanted? How could she make a choice like that so quickly? Still, even though she thought she wanted to stay with him now, what would she think about later when things would be hard? She'd stayed in this room alone for a relatively short amount of time compared to the rest of their lives and she'd already fallen so far and done so much damage to herself. What would change if he were there? He still wouldn't be able to hold her. She still would be alone. It wouldn't be long, he thought, before she would beg to be released from any promise he might hear from her tonight. So they better not make any permanent plans. She would need a back door once she understood the full consequences of what she was saying.

But she says she loves you, Kyo.

But does she really mean it? And more importantly, will it be enough?

They stayed motionless on her bed for a while longer after her words were exhausted. Neither one really felt like moving that much. Kyo enjoyed the scent of her shampoo, and the comfortable feel of her fingers in his. They had held hands before, of course. Tohru liked to walk that way, and so did Kagura. But she always held both their hands as both Yuki and he shepherded her to school or home from work. There had never been a time when they had cuddled together like this. Kyo ached to slip his body down so that he would be lying fully next to her, but he didn't really feel like being a cat right now so he stayed where he was. Tohru's breathing hinted that she might be dozing or outright asleep, finally at peace even though Kyo's emotions were in turmoil. He knew he should get up and stretch out on the futon that Hatori had brought. It could be rolled up and out of the way under the bed each morning, and Kyo was more comfortable sleeping on the floor anyway. He shifted slightly, but even that small motion woke Tohru immediately.

"Kyo?" She whispered, her voice a bit groggy. Kyo put his hands on her shoulders and sat up.

"We should get some sleep," he told her in explanation.

"Yes," she agreed, but her voice was hesitant. Kyo sighed. She was keeping something to herself again.

"Is there something you needed?"

"Um, no." He changed his position again until he could lift her chin up to meet his eyes.

"Are you sure?" He probed, not wanting to be harsh with her, not wanting to remind her again about who he was and how he wanted her to behave with him. If she had something to say, then she should just say it! How many times did he have to tell her that? She'd been doing almost too well at speaking her mind a little while ago.

Tohru threw her gaze to the bedspread and a blush went quickly across her cheeks and down her neck. He knew her face well enough to know that there was something she wanted but she felt that she didn't deserve to ask, that it would be too bold.

"What is it?" He forced his voice to remain gentle even as he grew frustrated. Why was it so hard for her? "Can't you just say it?"

"Well, I," She paused, her mouth open as if she were trying to say something. Kyo released her and stood up. It was too soon to think she could just change all her habits.

"Oh forget it," he said, trying not to snap. "Maybe you can tell me tomorrow. I'm going to bed, ok?" He took a step away from her, but found that he couldn't go any further. She still held onto his hand.

"Kyo?"

"What?"

"Where did you sleep last night?" He knew last night had been hard for her, she'd cried herself to sleep, but seriously, didn't she remember. He closed his eyes.

"Next to you," he answered.

"Could you, maybe, sleep there again tonight?" He looked at her sharply. Now her words poured out in her usual bubbling gush. "Of course if you don't want to, I completely understand! I was just hoping, well, it makes me feel so much better if you're right here, but you're probably more comfortable on the floor. It's ok. I didn't mean to –"

"It's ok to ask for what you want," Kyo cut her off. "But you're right about being more comfortable on the floor." Her face fell.

"I understand," she said.

"Hang on a minute! I'm not saying no." He pulled her from the bed and gently positioned her at their table. In the next few moments, he took his mattress from under hers and then set them up side by side on the floor. There was a bit of a difference in height, but it wasn't enough to worry him. He took their blankets and arranged them perpendicular to the mattress, creating a bed wide enough for them both to sleep on. He put their pillows side by side and then reached his hand for her again.

When she was settled under the blankets, he curled up beside her. She wriggled closer to him until her hands held his again and their foreheads touched. She sighed sleepily and with a content Kyo could only remember hearing after she took her first sip of hot tea after a long, cold day where she was very satisfied with her activities.

"Can you sleep now?" He asked her, hoping that for once in his life, he had done the right thing. That he had fixed something for her and made her happy.

"Yes, thank you. How about you? Are you all right? You're not in pain?"

"No, that moron will have to hit harder than that to take me out."

"I love you, Kyo."

Kyo winced inwardly at her confession. "Why do you keep saying that?" He asked, knowing that he still should return to the neko room no matter what she said, no matter what he felt.

"Because even though someone is with you all the time, you can never be sure you'll have another chance to say something like that. I thought my mother would be there waiting for me when I got home from school that day and I could tell her then. But she wasn't, and I couldn't. And I thought I could explain to you why I went with Yuki, but I didn't get a chance to do that either. So now that I know how I feel about you, how can I not tell you all the time?"

He opened his eyes, but hers were closed, a small smile on her face. He opened his mouth to respond to her loving sentiment, but found that he wasn't quite ready to put that kind of trust in her yet. He had trusted her in the past, with so much, but to say those words brought a whole different level of accountability. He could never take them back. Besides, there was no reason to raise her hopes. They couldn't be together. It would be best if he backed away from her, kept her emotionally distant so it wouldn't hurt so much when they took her away from him.

"Good night, Tohru," he said instead. She squeezed his hand slightly. He wondered who he was protecting. He stayed awake, watching her, his enjoyment at seeing her face so serene interrupted every few moments as he remembered another detail of the curse. His logic went back and forth in a frenzied tennis match, the opposing arguments of his wanting to stay with Tohru, who obviously wanted him at her side, and the intense knowledge that his staying was just prolonging the inevitable.

He'd been brought to Tohru with the responsibility of helping her recover, but was it still fair for him to stay here? Wouldn't it be better to stop this now, especially now that she'd confessed she had feelings for him. This wouldn't end well. They couldn't be together. It didn't even make sense.

But then again, her face was peaceful now as she slept. She'd eaten that day without crying. She had spoken without falling silent and unexpectedly digging her fingernails deep into the tender skin on the insides of her wrists. And the only thing that was causing these changes was his presence. Maybe it would be ok, just for a little while longer, to be together, to encourage her, to love her.

But you can't! He thought, carefully extracting his hand from hers. It's better for her to be with Yuki. And that's when Kyo thought of a plan. He would stay with her, but he wouldn't make promises. He wouldn't let her know how much he cared for her. He would talk about Yuki. He would help her remember how much better it would be for her once he was around again, how much they had enjoyed each other's company. He would convince her to change her feelings not only about herself but about him and his cousin. Then when Yuki came, she could go with him willingly, and be safe.

It wasn't the best plan, Kyo knew, and he hated that he was about to manipulate her into making a different choice. But the worst part was that he would have to deny the feelings he had for her in order to save her. He didn't care about being locked up. He didn't care about freedom or Yuki or the ceremony. He'd almost forgotten the horror of what Hatori had told him earlier that afternoon. All he wanted was to stay with Tohru, just like this, her sleeping sweetly next to him, not thinking of anything except each other. If it weren't for the beads on his wrist, maybe he could think of their relationship differently, with a bit of hope, but he knew that he would have to do what was best for her. He would have to start stepping down even as he lifted her up.


	10. Won't Somebody Come Take Me Home?

**Author's Note: Is anybody still with me? Thanks to those of you who reviewed my Not So Good chapter last time. I've been crazy busy with my second job. It always gets nuts around Christmas time (hint: I knit things for money. People need presents. People don't know it takes at least 5 days to knit a pair of adult socks so they don't tell me they need them until December 1 and I try to accommodate as many as I can. All this means no writing, no extra-curricular anything, and the possibility that I take time out of my regular, bill-paying job to stay home and knit cabled fingerless gloves.) But Moving ON!**

**I loved this chapter. I love how Miki has developed into a solid figure with a steadying influence on Yuki's wishy-washiness. I love how they talk to each other. In some ways, I like them better than Kyo and Tohru (But don't worry, even though this chapter focuses heavily on Yuki, Kyo's turn is coming soon. . . . but not until after the holidays when I don't have to knit another hat.) **

**Chapter Ten: Won't Somebody Come Take Me Home?**

"You know, we really have to quit meeting like this," Miki said playfully as she walked confidently up the bridge. Yuki smiled, unsure how to respond. They had met exactly like this, every day, for almost a month. Sometimes Miki was in a hurry and would walk past him with a rushed hello as she half-jogged across the bridge to where ever her final destination was. Sometimes she had a moment to stand with him and try to figure out what was drawing him back every night. What was he waiting for now? What was he doing? A lot of nights, the ones that disappointed him the most, leaving him with an empty feeling, she simply told him he should go home. She asked him often what he wanted. She asked him all the time about the why of his vigil. His discomfort at her question didn't prompt him to think about it for long. He just knew that he wanted to be here, that it would give him something he needed, so he came. Sometimes his reticence made her angry and she barraged him with a fury of inquiries about his goals in life, his ambition. He wondered often why she seemed to care.

The weather had been steadily warming, the nights not quite as chill as they had been. Miki had stopped bringing him tea on her trek, but he didn't mind. He drank her image in as she neared him, her eyes soft and warm, her satchel swinging slightly in tune to her step. She didn't wear a hat today, but he could see an umbrella poking out from the zipper of her bag. His own umbrella was propped against the bridge railing as it had been raining instead of snowing all week long, an encouraging change to the season.

"So, what are you doing here today?" Miki asked, coming to a halt next to him and leaning against the railing. It seemed she had a moment to chat with him tonight. Yuki faltered. He didn't have an answer. It seemed he never had an answer for any of the questions she put to him, and yet she continued to ask even the most difficult things that he refused to ask himself. He decided at the last second, just when her expression was tightening around the corners of her mouth into something that could have been a smile or an expression of frustration, to turn the conversation back around in an avoidance maneuver.

"You didn't have time to answer my question last night," he said, enjoying what the expression of confusion did to her face.

"Question," she said, sighing.

"I asked you if you were happy," Yuki reminded her, leaning against the railing to keep studying her face. He asked her the happiness question a lot, and she teased him with half-truths and semi-answers. He thought if he could get her to come out with it, just once, that maybe it would unlock all of the mystery of their bridge meetings. Maybe he would be able to do something else. "You couldn't answer, and this seemed the best way to reach you, so here I am."

"You're something else," Miki said, but she was still there and still smiling. "And yes, I am happy, if you want to know so much."

"How?" Yuki asked, wishing he could steal it from her like he would a pen or a kiss. She'd said it too casually, like her happiness was something she could put on as easily as her coat or shield herself with like her umbrella. If she'd just tell him! "What makes you happy?"

Her eyes doubled in size for a second as they met his, and her face caved in secrecy before she recovered and shrugged, thrusting her gaze to the river below them. "Oh, lots of things."

"Like what?" Yuki pressed, leaning closer to her. She'd already helped him so much with what she said, how she looked.

"Why do you want to know so badly?" Miki asked, looking uncomfortable but still friendly. "Like it would change your life or something."

"Maybe it would," Yuki countered, unable to really tell her why he desperately wanted to know. "Why don't you want to say?"

"Because you care too much. Yuki," Miki sighed, shaking her head. "Sometimes I think you've been living in a tiny room your entire life and have only just recently been allowed to talk to people. You're asking me these things, but I can still see that what you really want to know isn't the thing you're asking about. So, please, tell me what you really want to say."

Yuki took a step back, pushed off balance. He was trying to talk about her; why did she always put it back to him? He didn't want to talk about him. He didn't want to discuss his feelings anymore. They drenched him much more icily than the snow. So what if he wanted to borrow someone else's sunshine? So what if he needed a crutch to get through this enormous obstacle in his past to try and get what he really thought was necessary?

"Sleeping in," Miki said, breaking the silence and reining in Yuki's thoughts.

"What?" He asked, staring at her, confused.

"It makes me really happy to wake up early in the morning knowing I have no where to go. Bonus points if it's nasty weather outside. I love waking up and then snuggling back into the covers without feeling guilty. Now it's your turn. What makes you happy?"

"Um," Yuki had to think about that for a minute. He liked sleeping in too, but felt that if he said that it would seem too much like copying. "Gardening," he finally said, remembering a plot of earth that had been his secret sanctuary. "It makes me happy when the plants are doing well, when the seeds I put into the ground make their way out."

"You really are all about freedom, aren't you?" Miki giggled, and Yuki had to take a moment to make the connection.

"I guess so," he responded then quickly went on. "Your turn."

"Ok, let me think. Oh, notes on receipts. Well, wait, the good ones."

"Notes?"

"Yeah, when a customer leaves me a little note on the receipt that they liked my service or they thought I did a great job. It helps if they leave a good tip, but the note gives me a buzz for hours. Now you again."

Yuki smiled broadly, losing himself in this game, feeling warm and comfortable on the bridge, ready with his answer this time. "When someone brings me hot tea on a cold bridge," he said, smirking now instead of smiling.

"Oh, I'm sorry! It's been so warm lately, I didn't think you'd want any."

"I'm teasing! Your turn."

They bounced items back and forth, going faster and faster, laughing at each other. The listed pleasures growing shorter and shorter as they raced, trying to outdo the last answer with something even better, frequently pausing to laugh or comment, every so often changing an item if they both happened to think of the same thing at the same time.

"Harry Potter novels," Miki blurted.

"Rich Man, Poor Man," Yuki shot back, then found his smile sliding from his face just as an icicle would plummet from the bridge. The laughter faded from his cheeks, and all of a sudden a blanket of guilt wrapped him tightly and squeezed him so hard he didn't think he could breathe. This wasn't right. He shouldn't be doing this, enjoying himself like this. He thought of the games they had played, how her laughter had sounded.

"New socks, whoa, what happened?" Miki brought her mirth up short to mirror his expression.

"Nothing," Yuki whispered, knowing that she could tell he was lying but hoping to cover anyway. He risked a glance at Miki, noting how concerned she looked and not missing the underlying frustration.

"Don't be that way," Miki chastised. "Please, tell me about it?"

Yuki decided all at once that maybe he could trust her, maybe she really was on his side and could understand. "It's just, well, that girl I'm waiting for –"

"The one who isn't coming?" Miki asked, exasperated.

"Yes. Well, I used to know her. We used to spend a lot of time together."

"Your girlfriend?" Miki probed, which didn't make talking any easier for Yuki. That was a word that was very carefully avoided during their entire relationship.

"No," he said, quickly. "She, um, I think she was in love with someone else, but we were good friends. She taught me a lot about . . . .well, about everything." He paused, unsure how to phrase the next part of this tale.

"Something bad happened, didn't it? Was it because of the other guy?"

"No," he denied, wishing it had been the other guy. Yet even if it had, the outcome would have been the same; the suffering wouldn't have changed. "Do you remember telling me that we make our own happiness?"

"Yes," Miki said the word slowly, as if she needed more time to piece together his mismatched sentences. "What are you trying to say?"

"Well, what if you did something that took someone's happiness away? How could you be happy for yourself if you couldn't ever find out if that someone else were unhappy because of something you did?"

"Wow," Miki breathed, biting her lip and looking down to the river, all the fun of the past few minutes slipping away beneath them as if it had never been. "That's a hard one. I guess it would depend on what you did, wouldn't it?"

"I took someone's life away," Yuki confessed, feeling something tight around his stomach suddenly loosen as he said the words out loud. It felt good to give his guilt a voice.

"You what?" Miki half-shrieked, stepping away from him and looking as if she wanted to run as fast as she could away from their meeting place. Yuki suddenly realized how his words could have been misinterpreted. He raised his hands.

"No, not that. I mean, we meant a lot to each other, but one day I had to leave her forever. I took everything important away from her, and I'm so sorry about it. I wish every single day that I could take it back, because she was punished for what I thought of. I don't know how she's doing now, but if I knew she were happy with her life, then I might be able to forgive myself for what I did, then I could be happy too."

"So you're going to be miserable for the rest of your life because you don't know what happened to this girl?" Miki repeated, trying to sort it into words she could understand. It sounded like she wasn't getting very far.

"I just feel so guilty about it."

"I'm sure she's just fine. I mean, how long ago did this happen?"

"A little over a year," Yuki confessed.

"You've been all worked up over something that happened over a year ago? Yuki, I'm sure she's moved on. Has she contacted you or said anything to you?"

"Well, no, but –"

"Then there's no reason to think that she hasn't forgiven you. And even if she doesn't, if you know what you did was wrong and you know you won't do anything like it again, then it's her burden now, right? You can't make someone forgive you, so there's no sense beating yourself up about it."

"But-"

"Do you think she'd want you to do this for her? Do you think it would make her happy that you're suffering too? That you can't even talk about things that make you happy with me? How will she know? It's not like she's standing behind you all the time to make sure that you never have any joy again. It's the same as I told you before – standing on this bridge is only romantic if she finds out about it. If she doesn't, it's just you being out in the cold and wasting your time. There's a point where you need to stop and do something else."

"I can't," Yuki said, though he wondered if that were really true.

"Yuki, it won't do her any good for you to do this to yourself, will it? Does it fix anything for her? Can you do anything for her that will make up for what you've done?"

"No," Yuki said hopelessly, hating how this conversation was turning.

"Is it because you still love her? Is that why you can't let go?"

"That's complicated," Yuki stuttered. He'd never had to actually define his relationship with Tohru before. He certainly had feelings for her. He wanted her to be a part of his life, and yet he knew that a romance wouldn't turn out so well for either of them. The trip to the train station, before things got out of hand, hinted that would be the case. "We wouldn't work that way."

"Then maybe it's time to get on with your life, don't you think?"

"It's not that easy," Yuki said, but he knew he would never get her to understand this darker side to his story. The part where he would be forced to take over an ancient burden bond. Where he would have to tie himself to a monster and keep his family safe. Even if he had never taken Tohru to the train station, his life would have been taken from him anyway.

"Dammit, Yuki, it is!" Miki said, stomping her foot for emphasis. "It is that easy. Let it go."

He looked at her curiously, surprised at her fierceness. Why would she care if he chose to spend every night on the bridge, punishing himself as he waited for a redemption that might never come? What was it to him that she didn't understand his guilt, that she couldn't see how hard it would be for him to do what she asked. Why couldn't she just let it go?

"Did it ever occur to you that you're not just standing in the way of your own happiness with this?" Miki muttered, as if she weren't sure she should say anything else.

"What do you mean?" Yuki asked, completely caught off guard by this new question.

"I mean what about someone else who's missing out on a relationship with you because you can't have one without making yourself feel guilty over some stupid thing that happened over a year ago." Miki's words sped up alarmingly, angrily, her eyes flashing and hurt. "If you can't let go for your own sake, at least think about that for a minute."

"I can't," he said again, softly, knowing those two words were going to enrage her. He thought she would shout at him, but she kept her mouth carefully closed, shaking her head. He almost thought he caught a tear at the corner of her eye.

"Whatever," she muttered, brushing past him. "Knock yourself out." He watched her go, wondering if he should catch up to her, wondering if he should explain more or apologize. He thought of how they had laughed just a little while ago, how her eyes lit up when he mentioned something that she liked as much as he did. Now she was angry with him, expecting him to do something he really didn't think he could do.

He stood frozen in his normal spot, thinking about going after her. What would he say that wouldn't make the situation worse? What did she want to hear? He took a step in the direction she had gone. He didn't want her to walk away from him that way, not angry. He had never meant to upset her with what he considered his problem. He wanted to fix it, to go back to where they had talked easily and comfortably with each other, but even that wasn't the best. He had seen the look on her face on other faces before, and knew with a deep disappointment that Miki thought that she liked him. That's why she kept talking to him, that's why she got so upset that he couldn't allow himself happiness. How could he not have seen it before?

Yuki started to pace, conflicted. He had a duty to the Sohma clan, because it was the rat's responsibility. The other person Miki talked about couldn't actually exist, no matter what his feelings were, no matter what hers were either. He stopped, pondering the thought that just went through his brain. His feelings? What were his feelings? Why did he come to the bridge every night, knowing that Tohru wouldn't be there?

He groaned, a new guilty pain twisting around the old one. He'd been leading her on for so long now; no, that wasn't right. He wasn't going to say that since he knew that he did care for her, too much. That when he remembered happiness, he brought up brown eyes and strands of hair peeking out from under a winter's hat, and hot tea. But it would never work. He'd already tried with Tohru, and look what had happened! The truth was that there was no future for him, and he wasn't about to drag someone else down with him again.

It's better for Miki to be angry, he thought, leaning against the bridge railing, studying the blackness below. Anger is a protective emotion; it hurts less. I won't come back tomorrow. She'll forget about me. We'll stop this before it gets out of hand, before my family takes someone else away from me, before someone else gets hurt because of who I am. She'll be ok. All I have to do is leave; let her be angry.

He turned on his heel, feeling a little hopeful about the future and yet still frustrated about Miki's reaction to his words. He didn't want her to be angry. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to talk to Miki on the bridge every night for the rest of his life. He wanted her to understand him, all of him not just the parts he'd selected to share with her. He wanted to listen to her talk about her day, about her plans and dreams. He wanted to give them to her.

Don't you dare, Yuki, he chastised. Don't be selfish this time. There is no future with you. It can't be about what you want. Leave and don't come back.

Finally decided, he pushed himself off the cold, wet railing and turned toward his car. He startled when he saw her standing under the bridge lamp, staring at him, her expression difficult to read, a touch mad and a little embarrassed. He wondered what she'd come back to say. He wondered if he should allow her to say anything.

"Miki," He said, walking toward her, even though he knew he shouldn't. "Hey, I'm sorry."

"Don't bother," she said, quietly. "I totally overreacted. I keep forgetting it's none of my business what you do."

"So we're ok?" He didn't know why he needed them to be ok, but he felt compelled to ask.

"Yeah." She kicked at a pile of slush collected at the bridge side, hesitant.

"You don't look like we're ok."

She looked at him and sighed in defeat, pulling her lower lip into her mouth and staring up at the lamp. She shrugged and finally met his gaze.

"I missed my bus," she confessed flatly.

This sent Yuki right over the emotional edge. He chuckled, then decided he couldn't keep it under control that well and let his laughter get away from him. Miki kept her lips pursed tightly, trying to hold on to her dominating demeanor, but in the end, she doubled over too. It felt so good to laugh together.

"My car is right over here," Yuki said, gesturing with one hand while searching for his keys with the other. Don't do that, Yuki, what are you thinking? It's just a ride, he calmed his conscience. I'll take her home and tell her good-bye, that I've thought about what she said and that she's right, I have been wasting my time.

"I wasn't going to ask you," Miki started, but Yuki put one gloved finger to his lips.

"It's the least I can do," he offered. "Come on; it's starting to rain again." She stood still another moment, fighting within herself, but in the end she shifted into step beside him, resigned. He unlocked the passenger side of his Honda, opening the door for her, happy that the nights were getting warm enough that he wouldn't have to scrape the windows before he could leave the grocery store parking lot.

"I'm curious," Yuki said, happy that he had a plan, happy that he was finally going to do what was best for the person he loved, trying to keep that thought foremost like a bandage over the pain he felt deeper about not being able to talk to her again. "What do you do if there aren't crazy guys available for shuttle service?"

"If there aren't crazy guys, then I don't miss the bus," Miki shot back, but her voice had no heat. She huddled in the seat, her hands clutching the strap of her bag, her hair bunching up around the collar of her coat. "You'll just need to head straight down this road for a couple of miles before we turn."

"Just tell me when," Yuki said, driving past the closed shops and apartment buildings. The tires of the car squelched through the dirty slush that piled up in tracks down the streets, the wipers making the only sound.

"I'm so glad it's warming up," Miki said absently, staring out the window. "It'll be spring in a couple more weeks for sure and then all this nasty stuff will be melted."

"You don't like snow?" Yuki asked, more to make conversation than anything.

"Sure, I love snow," Miki said, then blushed unexpectedly and turned her head away again. "It's just the gross, filthy black city muck I don't like when winter's almost over. The transition from winter to spring is what gets me. Is it warm? Will it be too cold? The bottom two inches of my pants are always soaked. It gets old in a hurry."

"There's never much gray with you, is there?" Yuki asked, finding himself finally in charge of their conversation and liking it. Miki gave him a hard stare before shrugging it off.

"Not really," she admitted. "Turn right at the next intersection."

The only words spoken after that were directions until Yuki successfully pulled the Honda into an available parking space near what she said was her building. He shifted into park, but then neither of them moved. Yuki felt awkward, like he should say something. Miki looked uncomfortable but not angry anymore.

"Wait," Yuki said, suddenly, even surprising himself with his tone. He turned the key off and jumped out of the vehicle, coming around to her side as she stared at him through the windshield. He again opened her door, allowing her to step out.

"Thanks," she said quietly, her eyes deliberately not meeting his. "Did you want to come inside?"

Yuki paused. Did he? Should he? Yes and no. It would be better if he just got back in his car, drove off, and never came back. He didn't want to hurt anyone else, ever again. It wouldn't be fair for her if he stayed.

And it wouldn't be fair to her if he didn't stay either. He should explain, he decided. He should tell her the whole truth. He knew she deserved it for putting up with him and his odd answers for so long, for being his friend anyway even though he had never really opened up to her.

"Sure," he said, smiling and gesturing for her to lead the way. She brightened, taking off toward her door at almost a prancing pace. He followed, worried.

"Good because I think I owe you a cup of tea," she said, pulling her keys from her bag and smiling. She opened the door to her apartment and flicked on a light with almost the same motion. Yuki stepped inside, not surprised by its comfortable feel. There wasn't much there, but it was clean and cozy. Miki hung her satchel on a hook by the front door and immediately began shrugging out of her wet coat.

"Yours too," she offered, making him realize he was standing completely still in her doorway as if afraid to move inside. He allowed her to take it and hang it over hers, and sat at her table at her invitation. She hurried away from him to start making tea.

"So you live here all by yourself?" He asked, trying to break a way into the conversation he really wanted to have. The one where he told her he could never see her again, where he told her why things had to be that way.

"Yeah," Miki said, pulling tea leaves from her cupboard. "It's just right for me, except for how far it is from where I work."

"The restaurant, right? How long have you worked there?"

"Almost two years. I'm saving up, though, so I can start my own business."

"Which would be?"

"I want my own restaurant," Miki said. "If I can get my friend back to cook for me, that is. What about you? What do you want to do?"

"I don't get to choose," Yuki said, easing himself into his final confession. "So I haven't thought much about it."

"What's that about?" Miki probed. "Your parents want you to do something you don't want to do?"

"No, not my parents. Well, yes, them, but all the rest of my family too. I'm supposed to take over and be in charge of the Sohma family. It's a really big responsibility."

"I guess, but why you?"

"It was decided when I was born. I'll have to formally begin very soon. And then, well, you won't see me anymore."

"No more bridge meetings, huh?" Miki said, the effort of keeping her tone light obvious in her voice.

"No," Yuki said, looking at her, watching her carefully pour water from the steaming teapot.

"Is it what you want?" She asked, and he shook his head.

"It's never been about what I want. It's what the family needs," he insisted, needing her to understand this one thing about him. It didn't matter if she thought he was nuts for wanting to know what happened to Tohru, but somehow he needed her to understand that he wasn't taking himself away from her by choice.

"So, what, you just reign over your family but you don't get to see anyone again?"

"It's complicated, Miki. It's really hard to understand."

"No, I think I get it." She sounded so disappointed he wanted to hold her, a feeling he hadn't entertained for a very long time. "I'm really sorry about what I said earlier; I didn't want to push you so far away."

Yuki had a moment of clear understanding. She thought he was lying to get away from her! She didn't understand that he was really trying to protect her. People who got involved with the particulars of the Sohmas had to face horrible futures. It wouldn't be right to pull her in anymore than she already was. To talk to her on a bridge was one thing, light and inconsequential. To go further would be dangerous. It had never worked out before, and Yuki didn't want to sacrifice anyone else to the horror of his secret.

"You didn't," Yuki countered, leaning over the table to convey his seriousness about this. "Miki, this isn't about anything you've done or said. I just don't want anyone else to get hurt." He took a deep breath, risking a glance at her, taking in her crossed arms and tight lips. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"You don't make any sense," Miki sighed, exasperated. She knelt at the other side of the table, bravely cupping his hands with her own. "I'm not that girl, Yuki. For heaven's sake, just let her go and stop being so afraid. History doesn't always repeat itself."

"Yes it does," Yuki insisted. The years of the zodiac never varied, always the same cycle, always the same isolation.

"Are you sure I'm the one you're trying to protect?" Miki accused, releasing his hands, standing straight again.

"Yes," Yuki said immediately, but Miki shook her head.

"Doesn't sound that way. It sounds like you just don't want to be responsible. Like you think I'll be the same as that other girl."

"I should go," Yuki said, softly, feeling the situation slip from his control. This was a big mistake, yet another to add to his growing collection. He should have left while he still could. He never should have offered to drive her home, to try and explain things. He should have known better than to make the attempt.

"Yuki, why do you do this?" Miki didn't sound angry anymore or even hurt. She came closer to him again, trying to meet his eyes. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing," he lied.

"Would you stop that?" Miki raised her voice, her hands clenching. "Lying isn't doing either one of us any good. You're right; you are complicated, but you don't have to be. So what is it? What exactly happened to you?"

Yuki considered his options, and leaving still sounded like the best one. She searched him hopefully, her expression sympathetic. She still wanted to help him. If only he could have a future. They could have had so much if there wasn't such a huge secret between them. If only he knew what happened to Tohru, then he might be able to take another risk.

The tense atmosphere stretched out, neither of them wanting to be the one to break it, and Yuki wondered just how long she could keep her eyes flashing like that, what he should say that would comfort her and get him out of really explaining. It might have lasted until dawn if it weren't for the cat.

"Hey," Yuki yelled, leaping to his feet as the bright, orange ball of fur jumped right onto the table in front of him. He held his hands up defensively before pressing one palm against his chest to slow his heartbeat.

"Kyo, get down," Miki shooed, pushing him off and unsuccessfully trying to keep her face stern. "Sorry about him; my friend left him with me. I've been trying to find him a home forever. Now where were we?"

But Yuki wasn't interested in continuing their previous, uncomfortable, stalemated conversation. He stared at the cat, identical to the one he loathed.

"What did you say his name was?" He asked, trying to sound innocently interested, keeping his eyes locked on the animal, who stared back defiantly even after being chased off the furniture.

"Kyo," Miki sighed, defeat in her voice, understanding that he was going to change the subject and she was going to let him. "And he's not mine." Yuki tore his eyes from the cat to consider Miki, his mind snapping connections together at the speed of sound. Kyo?

"Your friend's?" He asked, his voice gaining intensity. Had he really been that close?

"Yeah, she left him behind when she moved." Miki answered, but her eyes were curious. Yuki knew he probably was starting to sound crazy again. He wondered how she could possibly like him when all his actions were so obviously insane.

"She moved? When?"

"I don't remember. It was very sudden. Two months? Give or take."

Yuki nodded to himself. That would have been about the time Kyo saw her; that would have been about the time Hatori would have moved her. A sudden horrible thought occurred to him, causing him to rush toward Miki, grabbing her by her forearms and staring hard at her face.

"Not the friend who was going to jump off the bridge?" He questioned intensely.

"Yeah, same one, but she didn't, remember? She's ok. Yuki, what's wrong?"

"She was going to jump," Yuki said softly, to himself. How could that be true? How could she even think that way? Maybe it was all a very big coincidence. Maybe they weren't talking about her, after all. He had to make sure. "What's her name?"

"Meeka," Miki said, still looking confused. He sighed in relief. See, Yuki. You got all worked up over a silly cat's name. "No, wait." Yuki felt cold, a dread he couldn't explain creeping over him. "That's not right. Her name is . . .um."

"You don't remember?" Yuki said, incredulous.

"Hey, she didn't remember. She said her name was Meeka until a few days before she left. But then she started talking weird. She told me about losing her memory and something crazy about people she used to live with. And that her name was something different."

"Tohru," Yuki whispered, disturbed.

"That's it!" Miki said, triumphant. "How did you –" She broke off, her hands pressing against her mouth. "Is she?"

Yuki nodded. His mind was already back on the bridge, watching the water running beneath it, black and cold. She wanted to jump. He sat down without noticing, raking his hands through his hair. He'd done that to her. That was his fault. When Kyo saw her standing there, is that what she had been thinking about? Had Kyo saved her that night?

"Yuki," Miki said, bringing him back to his immediate surroundings. "Don't look so upset."

"She wanted to kill herself!" Yuki yelled. How could Miki not understand how that wouldn't make him upset? "Don't you get it? That's my fault."

"That's not your fault," Miki insisted. "That was her choice, but you're forgetting something again." Yuki looked up at Miki, stared at her hard, daring her to try and make this right for him when now he finally understood the full consequences of his selfishness.

"She didn't do it, Yuki," Miki said, emphasizing each word slowly and distinctly. "She didn't jump. And she's fine. Well, she's more than fine."

"What do you mean?" Yuki asked, wondering if he should feel hopeful yet. "Where is she?"

"America," Miki said, smiling. Yuki felt his eyebrows draw closer in confusion. "Yeah, and she has a new boyfriend."

"What?" Yuki asked, trying to take this all in.

"Wait a second," Miki said, motioning for him to stay put while she scurried off into her apartment. Yuki sat still, unable to move, thinking hard about all of this. Tohru was ok; she had a new boyfriend. She lived in America?

"Here, see for yourself," Miki's voice filtered into the hurricane that filled Yuki's head. A piece of paper was pressed into his hands, and he found he had to stare at it very hard before he could make out the actual words. He recognized Tohru's handwriting, her signature, her voice coming through clearly from the page. There was no doubt that she had written the letter talking about how happy she was and how exciting it would be to start a new life in America with . . .

"Kyo!" Yuki almost shrieked, staring at the letter as if he thought it would change any second. He looked at Miki. "She ran away with Kyo?"

"Sure, it was all very mysterious and dramatic," Miki said, folding her arms again. "So you see? She's doing great, and that means you don't have to feel guilty anymore."

But Yuki was shaking his head. This didn't make sense. There was no way this would have been allowed. There was no way Kyo could have done this without anyone knowing. Not only that, but Hatori had told him that he knew where Tohru was, that he'd moved her from Hinoi himself. Did Kyo find her again after that and take her away? No, it just wasn't plausible.

"No way," he said, speaking to himself. "They'd never allow that. Something's wrong."

"What are you talking about?" Miki asked. "Do you know Kyo?"

"Do you?" Yuki asked. "Has she written you again?"

"Well, no, but I bet she's really busy. What's going on?"

"How did he do it?" Yuki said. "No, he couldn't have." He looked at Miki, the key to all this. "What happened?"

"Calm down?" Miki said before explaining. "He found her on the bridge, you know, that night that we're not going to talk about anymore because Nothing Happened. Then he came back over the next couple of days and said he was going to take her away."

"And you saw him? You saw them together?"

"Yeah. He came to the restaurant to pick her up. Then I got a letter and happily ever after."

"No," Yuki said, unconvinced.

"Look, this is supposed to be good news for you. It means that I'm right and the only life you've ruined is your own, but even that's good news because you still have plenty of time to fix - "

"What did he look like?"

"Huh?"

"Kyo! What did Kyo look like?"

"I thought you said you knew him."

Yuki kept his face hard, demanding that she answer his question properly. Something didn't feel right. The part about finding her on the bridge was true, he could tell, but the other things weren't matching. Miki shrugged, giving in.

"He was handsome," she began, her eyes drifting back to look at him again in her memory. "Older than I imagined he'd be, but she was so happy about him, who am I to say anything? He had dark hair, and one of his eyes looked a little funny."

"Hatori," Yuki said, shocked.

"Who?" Miki said, obviously trying to keep up with him.

"Kyo's hair is that color," Yuki said, pointing to the cat. "He never came to pick her up."

"That makes more sense," Miki said, nodding, "but that other guy knew her name, knew that she was expecting someone to pick her up."

It did make more sense, Yuki agreed. Kyo's plans had been ruined just as his had been. But whenever there was disobedience, there were always consequences, terrible, overwhelming consequences. Hatori said that Tohru had been moved from Hinoi, but where? It sounded like she remembered at least part of her old life. Had Hatori taken it from her again? Things were starting to sound less and less like a happy ending.

"So what happened to her?" Miki asked, suddenly worried. "Why did she write me this letter if it's all a lie?"

"Because Hatori made her do it, so you wouldn't worry about her," Yuki spoke softly, detached, thinking fast. What had been done to Kyo to restrain him from Tohru? Where had Kyo been the last two months?

"Who's Hatori? What's going on? Where is Meeka?"

Yuki shook his head. This was way further than he'd ever considered bringing Miki into his family's twisted little world. He'd never suspected to learn so much in such a short time, and yet still not have the answers he really wanted.

His cell phone broke its way into their conversation with the noise he used for an incoming text. They both jumped at the sound, then looked embarrassed for being startled. Yuki wondered who would be texting him in the middle of the night. He'd actually being ignoring his cell phone for a long while now, not wanting anyone from his family to bother him. He wanted to be as separate from them as possible, to be as free as possible until he absolutely had to come back for the ceremony. He had nothing to say to them, and knew they wouldn't be saying anything he wanted to hear. But since he was secretly grateful for the distraction, he scanned the message, from Haru. Immediately he wished he hadn't looked, maybe that would have made it go away. He stared at the words, their meaning sinking in very slowly. The phone slipped from his suddenly trembling fingers and clattered on the table.

"Akito, you bastard," he whispered, horrified, confused, lost. "What have you done?"

"Yuki?" Miki said, coming to kneel beside him, picking up his phone. He didn't pay any attention to her. This was too much, all at once. "Yuki, you're scaring me."

"I have to go," Yuki said, trying to find the will to stand up. "Right now."

Miki looked at the message, still glaring on the screen. Her eyes widened. "Whoa," she whispered, her eyes troubled. She stared at Yuki as if she expected him to break into pieces. "What does this mean?" She asked, reaching out to him. "Are you ok?"

He stood up, not really hearing her. This wasn't really happening. Any minute now he would be standing on the bridge again, waking up, seeing how late it was.

"It means I have to go," he said again, moving blearily.

"Yuki, wait," Miki said, grabbing his hand as he grabbed for his coat. "I'm coming too."

"No!" Yuki said, sharply. He twisted so he clung to both her hands. If he ever needed her to understand him, it had to be right now.

"Do you know why I came back to the bridge?" He asked, and she stared at him like he'd gone crazy.

"Yuki –"

"It's because I was waiting to see a girl," Yuki said before she could say anything, before he could change his mind. "Someone who meant the whole world to me. Someone so important, I never wanted to lose her. But I did lose her, forever."

"Yuki –"

"And now, now I go to the bridge because I'm waiting for you, Miki. Because more and more the thing I want most is to be with you, to hear what you have to say, to learn all I can about you. But I can't do that anymore, and you're right, it is because of Tohru. I can't do to you what I've done to her, and that's why I'm leaving, right now. I know you'll never understand, and I'm very sorry, but if I don't go right now and never come back, then it will be like I've killed you both." He pulled away from her, and pulled on his coat with the same motion. In another heartbeat, he raced out her door, rushing to where he'd parked his car, not even noticing he'd left his cell phone behind.


	11. There's Nothing but the Rain

Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait, but I'm hoping you guys all had fun holidays and didn't really miss me that much. We spent most of our time relaxing at home, nursing various members of the family through a stomach flu! Fun times. But we were rewarded with the best Christmas present of all – apparently my daughter is getting a sibling! Exciting! So far so good, but I really want this story to be finished (as I'm sure you all do too) before my life gets away from me again. Pregnancy and writing never did mix well – so here we go.

**Chapter Eleven: There's Nothing But the Rain**

Once the rainy season settled in, Kyo almost got used to feeling chronically exhausted. His limbs and head felt heavy all the time, as if he were running through an intense current in a deep river while pulling huge stones along for the ride. Everything became tiresome and difficult, and his normal low motivation for anything that didn't revolve around his physical progression in martial arts and his desire to beat Yuki ebbed even further until he'd quite forgotten why he cared at all. It used to hurt his schoolwork. It always hurt his social status. And sometimes, like this morning, it just plain hurt.

Of course it would have to be a particularly rain filled winter while he was trapped with Tohru in her little apartment on the main house grounds. For a while there was nothing but steady improvement. Tohru smiled at him often; they talked more freely. Some days, Kyo believed that she was almost happy. But then the weather broke. The cold blew off followed quickly by dark clouds. It began raining on a lazy afternoon, and it hadn't stopped for over a week. There were moments of silence, breaks in the main storm, but they were infrequent and far too brief.

It had happened to him before, many times, when the power of the weather would become too much for him. His strength whittled down to nothing, and his immune system cowed under the curse. Kazuma had told him it had been that way for the previous cat as well.

He still hated it.

He tried to keep up with Tohru's progress as much as he could despite the fog that swirled through his head. She was slowly coming into herself again, gaining weight and fleshing herself out into the slender, soft person she used to be before her life turned to misery. She smiled again, with her eyes as well as her lips. She laughed and clasped her hands together at the slightest joy, as if she couldn't keep it contained within her without holding it there. Kyo was charmed, and sad. It made him happy to see her blooming again even though he knew that he was helping ready her to meet her Prince Charming. No matter what they said or pretended, he knew that was the end for them.

Still, he had to be careful. Her spirit was still very fragile and intensely bent on self-destruction. Normally, he would blurt out the first thing to come into his head, carelessly making comments in tones that usually glanced off her without impact. Now he had to painstakingly choose his words and his manner of speech. The slightest tension would send her plunging back where they started. She didn't cut herself anymore, thank God, but she would tear into her arms with her fingernails, bite her hands until they bled, and refuse to eat for several days. This, of course, made him furious, but he'd learned quickly that yelling at her about it had the opposite effect of what he wanted.

He was pleased and frustrated at her progress, but mostly he was tired. He was exhausted of constantly monitoring his reactions, his words, his presence so that it would best heal his friend's tattered psyche. He was tired from the anxiety that waiting had caused. When would the ceremony take place? How much longer could he remain with Tohru? Was it really safe? He was tired of wondering what would happen once Yuki became head of house and discovered what Akito had done. It was like waiting for a sneeze, a constant buzz in his mind that he could not escape or ignore.

And to top it all off, the incessant rain.

He hunched at their table, his head on his arm and his hand curled over him, listening to his heart beating annoyingly out of rhythm with the drops on the ceiling but in perfect time with the throb in his temples. His eyes felt hot and unfocused and there was an ache in his bones that he didn't like at all.

"Kyo?" Tohru put a hesitant, shaking hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right?" He wondered if this was the first time she had called him, but he doubted it. If she were touching him, it probably meant that he hadn't responded to her first, or second, question.

He sighed, surprised that for the first time in a long time, he didn't really want to talk to her. "Yeah," he muttered, half-heartedly. "It's no big deal."

"But," Tohru said, unwilling to let it go. She never could let things go when she was worried. "You barely touched your breakfast. Do you want me to make you something else?"

"No," Kyo sighed. "I don't want anything, ok? It's just . . . it's just the rain."

Tohru hadn't moved, and Kyo knew this was going to be a very long day.

"Are you sure? You just don't look like you feel very well and I'd be happy - "

"It's fine!" Kyo snapped softly, and instantly regretted it. Damn! All the coaxing and encouragement he'd extended to her over the past weeks all for nothing with two tiny, sharp words. Why couldn't he ever just take a second to make sure he wouldn't do things like this? And why couldn't she just leave it alone anyway?

As always when he lost his control, the reaction was painful and immediate. Tohru's hand was gone in an instant, and she stepped back from him as if afraid he would strike her even though he never had. Her hand went to her mouth, though there were no tears in her eyes, and she turned from him to hurry to the bathroom, the only room in the apartment where she could lock herself in and be alone. Damn it. He couldn't let her get that far. If only he could keep his mouth shut.

"Wait a second," he called after her, standing a little too quickly for his aching head. He turned anyway, catching her wrist, but losing his balance. She gasped as he pulled her down to the floor with him. Now that she wasn't moving, Kyo took a second to recover, though he soon realized that all he wanted was to put his head down again. Man, this sucked.

"I'm sorry," Tohru whimpered. "I'm so sorry! I'll leave you alone."

"No," Kyo said, squeezing her wrist slightly and resting his head on her lap. Stupid rain. "I shouldn't snap at you." He sighed, twisting a little so he could look up into her face. She was now biting the back of her free hand. Kyo clenched his fist in anger to see her. Doesn't she know by now how much he hated that? What kind of idiot intentionally hurt themselves all the time? But he turned his fury quickly inward. If he could just be more patient then she wouldn't slip into this as a defense mechanism. It wasn't her fault that the actions of his family had finally broken her good will. He was supposed to be helping her recover, to be the person he remembered, and yelling at her was not working at all.

With all his willpower, Kyo opened his fist and closed it again, gently, around Tohru's hand, pulling it away from her mouth. He took a few breaths to make sure that when he spoke it would not be harsh.

"Please don't hurt yourself," he whispered, pleased with himself that her eyes softened when he spoke. That's better. Well, sort of. He was still lying in her lap with his pulse beating him behind the eyes.

"I'm sorry," Tohru said reflexively. "But, Kyo? Did you hurt yourself?" Now that one little episode was over, it looked as though they had returned to the original conversation. Kyo winced a little as a particularly nasty twinge raced over his joints. Stupid, stupid rain. But there was no use denying it after losing his balance like that.

"No," Kyo answered. "I'm just so tired." He curled his arm around to press the inside of his elbow against his eyes, which didn't help. In fact, it made it seem as though the room were spinning. Oh what the hell? Just tell the truth. "And my head hurts."

"What?" Tohru squeaked worriedly. Kyo removed his arm to monitor her reaction more closely. It wasn't just his tone that sent her over the edge. It seemed that any strong emotion, particularly helplessness or worry, would regress her. That's why he was surprised to see her eyes still clear, though concerned, staring straight into his. She slipped the hand he was holding out of his grasp and gently placed it on his forehead, warm and soothing. It sent a chill through him, which deepened into a shudder when Tohru moved her hand to his cheek and neck. "You have a fever," she determined softly. "Is that the rain too?"

"Yeah, well, sort of," Kyo answered, closing his eyes again now that he didn't have to worry about Tohru hurting herself for the moment. Besides, it was a little more comfortable in her lap than it had been at the table. "The rain just wipes me out, remember? Cats are more likely to come down with something when it's raining. It's no surprise."

Now that he was talking to her he wondered why he had tried to keep it from her before. He still held her wrist, but her other hand was smoothing his hair away from his forehead. It felt nice. Maybe it wouldn't be so terrible to let Tohru take care of him for a little while. Why not since they didn't have anything else to do?

"I'm sorry," Tohru said again. "I wish it would stop raining so you felt better. Can I make you some -" she stopped herself with a little gasp. "Sorry. I forgot. Um," she paused, thinking hard. Kyo smiled, knowing that she was trying to think of some way to help him without making him annoyed at her for trying too hard.

"Tohru," he said, reluctantly and unsteadily getting to his feet. He swayed a little once there, but Tohru was quick to catch his arm, concern sharp on her face. "No," he answered the question her pursed lips were trying hard not to ask. "I'm all right. But, um, I think I'm going to lie down for a little while, ok?"

"Sure." Still clinging to his arm, she walked him over to the mattress on the floor. Kyo sank onto it and rested his head again, sighing with relief. He couldn't really remember why he'd bothered to get up that morning in the first place. "Um, Kyo? If there's anything you need . . ." she trailed off, her hand once again making its way to his shoulder. It made him smile again.

"Maybe some tea," he said, pressing his palm to his forehead. "Later."

"Ok," Tohru said, hovering over him for a few more minutes, pulling the blankets tighter around him as he shuddered again. Then she stood up, though seemed unsure of what to do with herself. She clasped her hands together in an anxious pose.

"Tohru, it's all right," Kyo told her, though he didn't really feel that way. "I'll just get a little sleep and shake this off. It's not a big deal. And it's not your fault so just relax, ok?"

"Ok," Tohru said again unconvinced, but Kyo was too tired to continue reasoning with her. He just wanted to sleep, though the pain in his head and joints was beginning to make that difficult. Even though lying down had been the most comfortable thing just a few moments ago, he felt as though he would really be better off if he shifted to his other side. "I'll be here," Tohru said, reluctantly moving away towards the breakfast dishes still on the table.

"Hn," Kyo managed, curling up to make the most of his body heat, though he was certain that it was getting colder by the minute. Stupid rain.

Tohru's mind was racing as her hands went through the motions of cleaning up their breakfast. Kyo hadn't really eaten anything, which of course had prompted her worry in the first place. He had been looking dreadfully tired for a long time now, ever since the rainy season started, and he had told her that it was normal and not to be concerned. But she was concerned anyway. She wished that she had noticed sooner, or that Kyo had mentioned his discomfort before so that when Hatori had checked in with them first thing that morning he could have helped. She didn't even think there was a single aspirin in their prison, and it made her anxious that the only thing she had at her disposal to help ease her friend was tea.

The sun never made an appearance that day, the whole atmosphere inside remained gloomy and oppressive. Tohru did what she could to let Kyo rest, but as the afternoon slipped into evening she found herself drawn closer to him. Her heart was heavy with unease and uncertainty. Wasn't there anything she could do? She wrapped a package of frozen peas in a towel and placed it tenderly under his neck as he slept, though it made him draw up and shake with chill. Yet he was so hot that she didn't dare try to warm him with another blanket. She was sure every time she touched him that his fever was getting steadily worse. He hadn't spoken to her for hours, though he did mutter and move in his sleep.

It was dusk when Tohru tried to rouse him. He hadn't eaten anything all day, and she desperately wanted him to at least drink a little water.

"No," he muttered, without opening his eyes. "I don't want anything." Tohru bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed. She took his hand in hers and checked his temperature again, watching his eyelids flutter as he struggled to pay attention to her.

"I know," she said, softly, "But I'm sure you'll recover faster if you drink some water. Or I could make you a little broth . . ."

"Just get away from me," Kyo hissed unexpectedly, ripping his hand out of her grasp and thrashing to his other side. Tohru pulled back, afraid at his outburst. "All of you! Just get away!" Tohru put her hands to her mouth. All of you?

"Kyo, there's no one here," she explained, reaching out to him again. "It's just me."

"You," Kyo growled, shaking his head. "I never want to see you again. Go away! It's all your fault!"

Tears made their way down Tohru's face, and she knocked over her glass of water in her haste to get to her feet. What was he saying? Why was he so angry? What had she done to initiate this sudden violent change in him?

"Kyo?" She tried one more time, but Kyo seemed not to hear her. He cringed away, curling over onto his knees and hiding his face into his crossed arms, rocking back and forth and whimpering slightly.

"Go away," he moaned. "I hate you."

Tohru flinched at the venom in his tone, then hurried to the front door that she knew was locked. She tried the knob anyway, shaking it with as much force as she could, and then beating on the door with her fists. She had never bothered trying to get out before, knowing it was useless, but right now she desperately wished that there was a way she could run screaming into the rain. They needed help, right away.

Her battle with the door, however, proved as futile as she knew it would be when she started. Instead, she fled from Kyo's presence to the bathroom, slamming herself inside and crouching beside the bathtub, hot tears dripping onto the floor as she covered her ears with her hands. She could still hear Kyo in the other room, crying out in anger and discomfort, but knew there was nothing she could do about it. Her fingers raked down the sides of her face as fear and panic consumed her. He was right, of course. It was all her fault. It was her fault he was here, her fault he was trapped in here with her. It was her fault that she was so stupid. She pulled on her hair, curling over her knees, crying hard. The room fell out of focus, blurred together, went completely dark.

She didn't know how long she stayed in one spot, but slowly the world materialized around her again. She felt the familiar feeling of dried blood on her fingertips and knew that Kyo would be angry with her for hurting herself again. She knew he wouldn't understand that she just hadn't noticed she was doing it, that she honestly couldn't remember why this had happened.

She felt her teeth cut into the fleshy part of her hand and closed her eyes. He'd be angry, disappointed, sad. Deliberately, she unclenched her jaw, listening for any sound outside. What time was it? What was Kyo doing? How had she gotten here?

Hesitantly, she opened the bathroom door, feeling her way to the main living area. The night was dark, still storming, but there was enough light to make out Kyo's bed. That's when Tohru remembered what she'd been doing, how Kyo had yelled at her, blamed her for his suffering. How he was so sick. She knelt beside the mattress, noticing that Kyo's clothes lay rumpled and empty around a small orange cat, who was still twitching uneasily but had quieted down. She wondered how long he'd been lying here like this, all alone. Gathering her courage, Tohru also gathered the cat into her arms, resting her back on the bed. Kyo made no protest this time.

"Kyo?" Tohru asked hesitantly. He didn't answer her, but he didn't struggle either. "I'm sorry I left you. What can I do?" Kyo the cat shifted in discomfort, and Tohru ran her hands over his fur as comfortingly as she could. He was so hot, yet he pushed his body as close to her warmth as he could get. Tohru pulled the blanket over them both, crying helplessly. "I don't know what to do," she muttered worriedly. Kyo didn't answer, and after some time they both fell into an uneasy sleep as the storm continued outside.

Even though Hatori was used to silence when he entered Tohru's prison, he knew immediately when he turned the doorknob that this morning was different. Something was wrong. The atmosphere was heavy and frightened, and Tohru was not in her usual place in the kitchen. He stepped inside cautiously, closing the door behind him, hoping that Tohru had not fallen into depression again since she had been making such good progress.

He normally only checked on his cousin and his friend once a day, in the morning before the household was quite awake. It made it easy to take away trash or deliver fresh groceries without anyone noticing. His concern over Tohru was disappearing little by little as Kyo gently rehabilitated her. He had to admit that he was proud of the cat, even though Kyo had been quite serious about not forgiving Hatori for their predicament. He didn't speak to Hatori when he could help it, but that hardly mattered. Hatori could see the good his attention was doing for Tohru, and he felt confident that she would pull through this ordeal much better than he thought. And her company was helping Kyo and Akito too. Hatori was able to bring back her cooking utensils, including the knives, and trusting that Kyo would keep her from using them for dark purposes. She spoke to Kyo and to him as she used to do, and her face was beginning to lose its pallor and dead expression. It almost seemed normal, so that Hatori could forget that it would quickly come to an end. He tried not to think about that, instead relishing the progress that Tohru was making and how much improved Akito's health had been because of Kyo's newfound self-control.

Even so, last night had been a difficult one for his master, though not near as painful as in the past. It made him wonder what could have happened to change the delicate balance, so it was not without a certain apprehension that he had come to the shed that morning. He knew that Tohru still hurt herself sometimes no matter how hard Kyo tried to prevent it. He knew that she still had days where she could not eat or speak, and knew that Kyo had to fight not to be upset at her set backs. It didn't really surprise him then that the door opened to an unusual sight.

"Hatori," Tohru whimpered from a cramped position on the floor. Well, at least she was talking and alert, but from the looks of things, she was having one of her bad days. She was crouched atop a nest of rumpled blankets and a tangle of Kyo's clothes. Wait. Where was Kyo? Hatori could just make out a small bundle of orange fur that Tohru cradled close against her. This wasn't what he had expected at all. Kyo was allowing himself to be cuddled? Hatori was thrown off, now noticing the long scratches down Tohru's face. He was confused. Who was in need of help here?

"What's wrong?" He asked, approaching her quickly and kneeling beside her on the mattress. Her eyes had regained their shadowed look, and there were tear tracks following the new scratches on her cheeks. "Tohru, what happened?"

"Kyo," was all she could say, tears forming again in the corners of her eyes. She bit her trembling lip and looked down at the cat in her lap. Hatori nodded in sudden understanding. He should have known.

"Let me look at him," he asked gently, pulling his cousin from her protective grasp. The problem with being a family doctor to a bunch of cursed animals was that you had to be a vet too. Kyo was limp and hot, much too hot, and his nose was dry. Hatori wondered how he had gotten so sick in such a short amount of time. Yesterday morning he'd seemed tired, as usual when the weather was wild, but he was sure that he would have noticed something like this. Still, he needed to assure Tohru so she could snap herself out of it enough to help him.

"He'll be all right," he said, pushing back the cat's eyelids, but not being encouraged by what he saw. "It's been this way for the cat for as long as anyone can remember. I'm sorry if you were frightened, Tohru."

"Are you sure he'll be ok?" Tohru asked, sniffing anxiously.

"Of course. I'll be right back with my things, but in the meantime, why don't you make a fresh pot of tea?" For some reason, his words made her cry harder.

"He won't drink it!" She cried. "I've been trying! I don't know what to do. He couldn't hold still, and he said . . " She broke off, her hands clawing at her face again. Hatori gently put Kyo down in the blankets so he could hold onto Tohru.

"I'm sure he said a lot of hateful things he didn't mean, Tohru," Hatori assured her, not wanting to ask exactly what those things were and have her relive her obviously painful night. "And I'm sure he had no idea what he was saying or who he was talking to. Now, I'm going to go and get something that will help him, and I promise you that he will want some of your tea once I'm through. Now, please, calm down and do as I say, all right?"

"Yes," she sniffled, though he wasn't sure she was entirely convinced. Hatori didn't have much choice but to leave her, though. She was at least moving in the right direction when he locked her back inside.

He had to admit that he wasn't entirely convinced either. The rain had certainly been brutal the last week, and Kyo's living conditions weren't exactly the best. It wasn't surprising that he had finally succumbed to the weather, but Hatori was concerned about how fast. Also, he was afraid of the impact Kyo's illness might have on Akito. It was only a few more days until the scheduled ceremony; it would take place as soon as they could figure out where Yuki had gone. Kyo would need his strength for the transfer. His recovery would have to be short.

Hatori returned as quickly as possible with his medical bag, and was shocked to discover Kyo still in cat form, though Tohru was busy in the kitchen. He had thought that Kyo was only a cat because of Tohru holding him not because his illness had affected him so much.

Hatori extracted a syringe from his bag and measured a careful dose of an anti-pyretic into it. Kyo would first need to be human before he could determine if he would need his fluids replenished through an IV line. And the fever must come down.

Tohru hovered worriedly close by, but Hatori couldn't assure her any more just yet. She didn't ask him any more questions, but did rush to get him things he needed. A towel soaked in warm water, another towel that was still dry, and a pair of Kyo's pajamas.

With the combined efforts of the towel and the medicine, Kyo was able to return to human form. Tohru busied herself with the towels while Hatori dressed his cousin and helped him back under the blankets on the mattress on the floor.

"Is he ok?" Tohru asked when Hatori stood up.

"He will be," Hatori promised. "His fever is coming down, and I'm certain he'll wake up soon. While we wait, I want to look at the scratches on your face." Tohru placed self-conscious hands over her cheeks.

"Oh, I'm fine," she protested, her face flushing in embarrassment. "I don't know what I was thinking." Hatori sighed, wishing that both of them could just express themselves in a healthy fashion.

"Come on," he said, firmly, pulling her into a chair at the kitchen table and reaching into his bag again for antiseptic. "I know it goes without saying, but you've really got to stop using your fingernails like this. It's very unsanitary, and you could easily give yourself an infection."

"I know," Tohru muttered, looking down at her hands clasped in her lap.

"And it makes Kyo very sad," Hatori continued, dipping the stringent onto a cotton swab. "And me as well."

"I'm sorry," Tohru stammered, and Hatori realized that his lecture was not working. It was making her sink further into her self-hate rituals. Her hands were already clenching together, and then he saw the new bite mark shaped bruise on the back of her hand. He sighed, congratulating Kyo again for his patience and restraint.

"It's all right, Tohru," he told her gently, holding her hands still with one of his own. "Calm down. No one is angry with you. You've done nothing wrong." It was hard to say those words to her when he really was quite frustrated, but anything besides quiet reassurance would just push her away.

"I'm sorry," she said again, and then they both finished speaking. Hatori cleaned her face, glad that the scratches were shallow and would heal quickly if they were clean. The skin on her hand was not broken, and the bruise would be gone soon. All in all, he had seen much worse when she was under stress, and considering the amount of fear she had been through the previous night, he was actually quite pleased that there weren't any worse injuries.

"Would you like some breakfast?" Tohru asked after he was finished. "I imagine Kyo won't want anything, but . . ." Hatori smiled, glad that her anxiety was at least manifesting as something productive. He decided to indulge her. Besides, the girl really could cook well.

"Certainly, Tohru," he smiled at her. "I think that's a fine idea."

They had just finished eating when Kyo stirred on the mattress. Tohru jumped to her feet, but Hatori motioned her back. He wanted to check things out first before allowing her close. He wasn't sure what presence of mind the cat would be in. "Welcome back," Hatori said as Kyo opened his eyes. They were not quite free of the fever shine, but at least it was plain that Kyo was no longer delirious. He doubted that he would fully recover until the rain cleared up, but at least he could make him more comfortable. "How do you feel?"

Kyo glared at his cousin, his anger at him for their present situation still not subsided after all this time. He might not have answered if Tohru hadn't hurried over to Hatori's side, relief radiating from her.

"You're awake," she said with tender gratitude, reaching out to touch his face. Kyo's expression softened.

"I'm fine," he finally said, straining to sit up. Hatori restricted his motion with a hand on his chest.

"Not yet," he said firmly. "It's a little too soon, and you're not exactly fine." Kyo shot another glare at the dragon, but Hatori had to tell them both the truth even at the risk of frightening Tohru. "Your fever is still higher than I'd like." Kyo dropped limply back to the mattress, too weak to fight about it.

"I made you some tea," Tohru went on timidly, and Kyo smiled at her tiredly. "It's still hot if you want it."

"Bring it here," Hatori commanded, knowing Kyo would refuse her. She stood up and went to retrieve it while Hatori gently helped Kyo to a sitting position.

"Don't forget to do something about her face," Kyo said quietly when she was away from them. "She's scratched it again."

"I won't," Hatori promised, not bothering to explain that he'd already tended her. "You really scared her last night. Do you remember?"

"No," Kyo hissed irritably, but Hatori could tell he was more upset at himself. "I don't know what happened."

"What do you remember?"

Kyo closed his eyes, pulling the blankets tighter around him. "I don't know," he sighed, frustrated. "Geez, it's cold in here." Hatori felt Kyo's forehead, unnerved to discover that his temperature seemed to be rising again. He might have to bring Kyo into the main house for monitoring.

"Here, Kyo," Tohru said, appearing with a steaming cup. Kyo clutched at its warmth, but made no move to drink it.

"If you don't drink," Hatori cautioned. "I'll have to set up an IV. Do you understand?" This statement earned him yet another glare, but Kyo did take a cautious sip, shuddering a little.

"Is there anything I can do?" Tohru asked, desperate to be of service. Hatori smiled at her willingness, but was at a loss at what to tell her. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, and it wasn't helping that Kyo wasn't talking to him.

"I don't think so, Tohru," Hatori answered. "I think Kyo will have to come with me for a while."

This response brought an abrupt reaction from both teenagers. Tohru's hand jerked forward to cling to Kyo's, her eyes terrified. Hatori wasn't sure what frightened her more, that Kyo's illness was so serious that Hatori needed to keep an eye on him or that she would be left alone again.

Kyo, for his part, quickly put his teacup down out of harm's way while pulling Tohru closer to him with his other arm. He smoothed her hair awkwardly and shushed her, closing his eyes against whatever discomfort the sudden movement had caused him.

"Relax," Kyo murmured, "I'm not going anywhere without you. It's not that bad."

"Please," Tohru beseeched Hatori. "Let me come too."

"That would be impossible," Hatori told her, "No one else can know you're here."

"It's no big deal," Kyo spoke up. "I can stay here."

"Tohru?" Hatori said. "Would you mind letting me speak with Kyo alone for a moment?"

"What? Oh, no, sure," Tohru stood up and moved away from them to clear the breakfast table. Hatori pitched his voice low so only Kyo could hear.

"If you're going to stay here, then I need you to answer some questions honestly for me," Hatori warned, ignoring the hateful expression Kyo was wearing. "The ceremony will be very soon, and you'll need your strength. I think it would be best if you came into the main house."

"It's not that bad," Kyo said again, shivering despite himself. "It's already better than it was."

"I'm worried that once the medicine I gave you wears off, you'll be right back where you started. I know you don't like me right now, but please believe that I am worried about you. I'm not trying to separate you as a punishment. It's quite unfortunate for you to be ill right now, and we need to do everything we can so you'll be ready when the time comes. Now, answer me, how are you feeling? What hurts?"

"I don't know," Kyo muttered, but Hatori could tell that he wasn't being difficult on purpose now. This time he was genuinely embarrassed and frustrated to be in such a weak position. "Everything. My head, my back, my hands -"

"Are you dizzy?"

"Sort of."

Hatori went through with a full physical on his cousin while Tohru cleaned the kitchen area. Kyo's lungs were thankfully clear, and he seemed to be otherwise ok. He could focus on Hatori's fingers and though his pupils didn't respond the way they should, they weren't alarming either. His breathing was fast but not frightening, but he was sensitive to touch and suffering intense chills. Hatori concluded that it was a minor type of virus, and he was certain it was a product of the weather. Still, he didn't like the thought of leaving Kyo alone with Tohru when both were in such a fragile state. Yet, he knew that it would be hurtful to pull them apart as well. He wasn't sure how long the rain would continue, but thought that Kyo's condition would mirror its patterns however long it went on.

"All right," Hatori finally said, standing with his bag and handing Kyo's teacup back to him. "You can stay under Tohru's care; however, you must keep replenishing your fluids. If you can, try to have a glass of something every hour at least. Tohru, please make sure that he rests quietly until the fever breaks."

"Of course!" Tohru squeaked, obviously taking her duty as Kyo's nurse very seriously while taking great pleasure in the knowledge that he would not be taken from her.

"Don't be stubborn, Kyo," Hatori cautioned. "If something changes, tell Tohru immediately. I'll do my best to check in on you more often until you're well. And understand that there may be a point where I will have to take you inside. All right?"

"Yeah, whatever," Kyo grunted, curling over onto his side again on the mattress, his teacup empty as instructed. "It won't come to that."

"Let's hope not," Hatori agreed, turning his attention once more to Tohru. "Now, don't be afraid, Tohru. Everything will be just fine. Remember that we care about you very much and don't want you to get upset about this. Kyo will rest much easier if he knows that you can stay calm too. Understand?"

"Yes," Tohru said, blushing and looking at her feet. With that, Hatori took his leave, locking them inside together and hoping, yet again, that he was making the right choice.

Kyo slept most of the morning again, but did not mutter or moan in his sleep this time. The drugs Hatori had given him seemed to be doing some good. Tohru finished cleaning, thought about making lunch but decided against it. She wasn't hungry and doubted that Kyo would be either. But she did start a broth on the stove to keep warm and ready just in case she could tempt Kyo with it later in the afternoon.

She thought about waking him up when it was freshly simmering, remembering Hatori's warning about keeping Kyo hydrated, but found she didn't need to.

"Tohru?" Kyo's voice was weak, but clear, and she turned from her task and toward him eagerly.

"Yes? Would you like me to get you something?" But he shook his head, raising his hand to beckon her over to him. She dipped out a cup of broth despite his answer and knelt at his side.

"You look tired," Kyo told her, and she smiled at his concern.

"I'm all right," she said, extending the cup of broth toward him. He was the one that looked tired, but not quite as bad as before. He took it, but set it on the floor so he could take her hand and bring her face closer to his. She found that she couldn't meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Kyo said. "I don't remember anything I said or did last night. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or scare you."

"I know that," she assured him, though it was nice for him to apologize this way. It would be even better if he would drink the broth she'd brought to him. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"My pleasure." He studied her face, tracing softly the scratches she'd inflicted upon herself. Tohru noticed traces of anger lightning across his eyes and soon found that her palms were lifting without her thinking about it to hide her cheeks from view.

"Is this it?" Kyo asked seriously. "You didn't do anything else to yourself, right?" Tohru had hidden hurts from him before, cutting the tops of her thighs, the bottoms of her feet, her upper arms, so that he wouldn't know. But even though she went to a great deal of trouble to come up with locations that he would not notice, she found that she could not lie about them when he asked. And he asked so often, always knowing what change in her presence meant that she had broken under the pressure.

"No," Tohru answered honestly. "Just this, Kyo. I promise." Kyo sighed, half remorse and half relief.

"I wish," he began but stopped himself quickly as Tohru clasped her hands together tightly in her lap, panic squeezing her heart because she had disappointed him again. It didn't really make sense for her to want to hurt herself because she was upset that she had made him upset that she had hurt herself, but she could think of no better outlet at this point. Though she was trying so hard to do better.

"Yes?" Tohru encouraged, wanting to know what he wished so she could make it happen. She would do anything she could, try as hard as she could, to please him.

"I wish it hadn't been my fault this time," Kyo said very softly.

"But it wasn't!" Tohru assured him rapidly. "Why would it be your fault? I'm the one with the problem. I'm such an idiot. I'm so sorry that I constantly make you worry about me. I'm –"

"Calm down," Kyo said, placing a soothing hand on hers. "That's not what I meant. Forget I said anything, ok?"

"But –"

"I am glad that you didn't do anything drastic," He said, and then he awkwardly picked up his cup of broth and took a sip. Tohru rejoiced inside to see him, feeling all her anxiety melt at his actions. He wasn't upset with her after all. And he must be getting better if he were drinking without being asked. He smiled at her as she visibly relaxed. "This is really good," he said, finishing it.

"I hoped you'd like it," Tohru said, taking his cup and returning to the stove. "Did you want anything else?"

"No," Kyo said, but the way he looked at his hands made Tohru wonder if that were true. She smiled.

"Are you sure?" She asked, half-teasing, remembering a time when they had been in this exact position in reverse roles. "Remember? It's ok to ask for what you want."

Kyo grunted again, but he sounded half-amused, and half-relieved. "Easy for you to say," he said, which made them both grin wider. It lasted a moment before Kyo turned serious again. "I do remember that every time I came to my senses last night that you were wide awake and right there with me the whole time. You can't have gotten very much sleep." He trailed off, and Tohru realized what he wanted.

"I was thinking of maybe taking a nap since the weather is still so dark and gloomy, if you didn't need anything," she told him, hoping to make it easier. "And, maybe, if you're still cold. I, um, well, you could . . . it might be comfortable. . ." she couldn't say it either.

"Yeah," Kyo responded, and their eyes met for a brief second before they both blushed and looked away again. "If you're ok with that?"

"Of course," Tohru nodded. "If you are."

She suddenly found that while they had been talking, she had moved from the stove to his bedside again, and they were actually quite close. Without saying anything else, and hoping that she was understanding their awkward communication correctly, Tohru slipped underneath Kyo's blanket and wrapped her arm around him. There was the expected poof of orange smoke, and in a few seconds, Kyo the cat settled comfortably against her shoulder, breathing a sleepy sigh. Tohru breathed in slowly, positioning her arms around her friend and closing her eyes.


	12. I'm Searching For A Face

**Author's Note: So many apologies, everyone, for taking such a long break. (Morning sickness is actually a misnomer giving false hope.) Mostly I've been an accessory in my house lately, kind of like an afghan you leave draped over the corner of the couch. I hope you're all still with me – things are going to get good now.**

**Chapter Twelve: I'm Searching For A Face**

It was hard to tell the time when they woke again because it was so dark and quiet. Tohru opened her eyes and could faintly make out Kyo's human face close to hers. He had his hand in hers and his eyes open. For a moment, she panicked. How long had he been looking at her? When did he change back?

"Hold still," he told her quickly, tightening his hold on her hand. "I just changed back a second ago. That's what woke you up."

"Oh, ok," Tohru blushed, holding as still as she could since Kyo hadn't had a chance to put his pajamas back on. "I wonder what time it is."

"Who knows?"

"But, Kyo, listen! The rain's stopped!" That's why it was so still in the apartment. The rain had finally ceased. She studied her friend's face, noticing that his eyes were clear and his skin much cooler than before. It seemed that his fever had broken. "Does that mean that you're feeling ok?"

"Yeah, I am," Kyo nodded, then they both jumped as his stomach growled loudly. It made Tohru giggle with relief. "Except I'm starving."

"I bet," said Tohru, extracting herself slowly from under the covers. "Why don't you take a nice, long bath while I make you something to eat? That will put you back to normal, I'm sure."

"Ok," Kyo agreed, gathering the blanket around him to make his way to the bathroom. Though he was still unsteady on his feet and needed Tohru's arm to get him there, he seemed to be in much better spirits. It lightened Tohru's mood so much she felt that she could have carried him.

"Take as long as you want," she told him encouragingly as she handed him a clean shirt and pants. "Is there anything in particular you'd like?"

"I don't care. Whatever you make is fine."

"It's nice to have you back." He gazed at her fondly for a moment before moving to close the door. Tohru clasped her hands in grateful gesture before gliding into the kitchen to see what she had that Kyo might like. She decided on improving her broth that she'd made earlier in the day by adding some vegetables. And maybe Kyo would like a little cod with rice too. She hummed, happily absorbed in her work, chopping vegetables and adding them to her pot. Kyo was going to be ok. She could hear the water stop running in the bathtub and hoped that Kyo really would take his time. The aftermath of the rain had left the Sohma grounds fresh, though muddy. It still got dark early in the evenings, but since the rain had cleared up some, there was still plenty of light to see by. If Tohru hurried, she could finish with her cooking before it got too dark. They were still not permitted to keep on a light after the sun went down.

She was so happily absorbed in her task that she didn't even hear the lock click or the door open. She was turned away from the opening and not expecting anyone to come check on them that evening. So when a hand grabbed her shoulder roughly from behind, she shrieked before she could stop herself. She dropped her knife and brought her hands to her face in defensive reflex, but she wasn't fast enough to prevent the harsh hand that slapped her across her already scratched cheek.

"Where is he?" A dark voice hissed angrily, causing Tohru's heart to stop beating and drop painfully inside her.

"Akito-san!" She squeaked, trying to fold her body into a tight ball. "What are you . . ."

"Stop being stupid," Akito growled, keeping his voice low and threatening. His fingers clamped down hard on her wrist, dragging her hand away from her face so he could slap it again. She cried out, twisting away from him and almost falling. "Tell me where he is."

"Who?" Tohru cried. What was going on? Why was Akito here and so angry? Did he mean Kyo? Was he looking for the cat?

"Yuki, you worthless, worthless girl!" Akito spat the words out, more filled with rage than Tohru could remember. Her spirit began to shut down as fear took her body over, that familiar, uncomfortable darkness she had lived in before Kyo had come to her crashing in over her in painful waves. She knew in a few more seconds that she wouldn't be able to move or speak.

"Yuki?" She hadn't thought of Yuki in so long, though she knew that she would probably be reunited with him soon, after the ceremony was over and he became the head of the house. Wait. If he were missing, did that mean that the ceremony couldn't take place? Wouldn't that be a bad thing? No wonder Akito was so upset. But she didn't understand why he thought she would know anything about it since she had been kept a prisoner in this place for over two months. "I don't –"

"Shut up!" Akito clenched tight to her wrist, shaking her as hard as he could. It was amazing to think that a person so slender could be so strong. "What is it about you? I don't understand what he sees in a pathetic, ugly, whining, weak creature like you. You're nothing!" He dropped her abruptly, and she didn't even try to stand up on her own. She cowered before the head of the Sohma household, her arms shaking as they tried to support her. In the dim light, she could make out the folds of Akito's light red kimono as it trailed into her vision. She squeezed her eyes shut when he tangled his strong grip into her hair and yanked her head down to the floor. Bursts of painful memory cannoned into her panicked body. This had happened before. He had yelled at her like this before, just this way, before he had taken everything that was important to her. Tears spattered the wood, and Tohru quickly found herself moving backward in time, feeling as if she were moving in a dream, the ones where she tried to run with heavily weighted legs, where no matter how much energy she put into her motion, she progressed only in the smallest of increments.

"Akito," Kyo's voice was steady as he entered the room, but soft, quiet. Tohru's heartbeat steadied at the sound of it. "Let her go."

The fingers in her hair loosened slightly as Akito straightened to consider the interruption. "You," he spat the word in a tone of utmost betrayal and disgust. "How did you get in here?"

"You left the door open," Kyo answered, a smirk in his voice. Tohru moved a tiny bit to notice that Kyo was right. For the first time since her arrival, the front door stood unguarded and slightly ajar. Hopefully, she then tried to meet the cat's gaze, to give him some secret signal to sprint outside and save himself. Run as fast as he could to where Akito could not touch him.

Kyo stood braced against the wall, shirtless, his hair still wet from his bath, his arms folded across his chest. It was very obvious that he hadn't come from outside.

"How dare he?" Akito spoke to himself, chillingly hushed. His hand clenched tight in Tohru's hair again as he suddenly yelled. "How dare you?"

"Let her go," Kyo commanded again, uncrossing his arms and taking a threatening step forward. But Akito was not the type to be dominated. If anything, his hold cinched even more. "She has nothing to do with this."

"I know!" Akito raged, thrusting his arm down and slamming Tohru's forehead onto the wood of the floor. Black spots jumped out from the corners of her eyes then faded back the way they'd come, leaving a dull ache around her head. The fingers, however, finally released her. "So why does everyone insist on keeping her with us? What is it that makes it impossible to get rid of her?" He spoke the last four words distinctly, even though he hissed them through clenched teeth. "Why does everyone treat her the way you should be treating me?"

Tohru felt more than saw Akito's attention rest on her again before she had even collected herself enough to move. "As if you're the one keeping the monster at bay. As if you're the real protector of the family. It's disgusting."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tohru muttered, knowing that whatever came out of Akito's mouth shouldn't be taken seriously, knowing that he liked to say things to hurt people as much as possible. "I know I could never take your place."

"No," Akito snarled close to her ear. She still looked at the floor. "You couldn't."

"Back off, Akito," Kyo said again, taking another brave step.

"Don't you tell me what to do," Akito snapped, standing straight again. The shadows on the floor shifted as the Sohma leader also took a step. "You're not supposed to be in here in the first place. So why are you here? Why did he bring you here? You don't deserve to be around anyone!"

Slowly, Tohru sat up, watching in horror as Akito suddenly lashed out against Kyo, striking him too harshly and too eagerly across the face. She gasped as Kyo was knocked off balance, falling to his knees. He caught her eyes for the brief moment he was on her level and gave the tiniest nod toward the open door. He wanted her to run, she realized. But no, she couldn't do that. She couldn't leave him here. Where would she go? Who would help?

"What were you trying to prove?" Akito asked bitterly, beating Kyo again until he was down on his hands and knees. "You thought I wouldn't find out?" He kicked Kyo in the ribs; Tohru saw Kyo's face tighten against the pain and decided to run in a different direction.

"No, stop," she cried, thrusting herself between the Sohmas.

"Tohru," Kyo said, agonized and frustrated. Akito said nothing for a moment; his face unreadable except for the anger. The unexpected interruption held him still, captivated and furious, as he worked through the implications of the scene. Tohru spread her arms out to either side as a timid shield for her friend.

"You're defending him? Unbelievable," Akito whispered. "You can't be serious."

"I am," Tohru said. "Don't hurt Kyo because you're mad at me."

"This is the worst kind of joke," Akito went on as if he hadn't heard. His lips curled up in a gruesome smile and one arm clutched around his chest as he laughed silently. "You're kidding," he kept saying while Tohru pulled on Kyo's arm to help him off the floor.

"Oh no," Akito said abruptly, pushing Kyo with enough force that he sat down hard on the floor, knocking Tohru over with him. "We're far from finished here." Tohru again tried to put her arms out for protection, but Akito knelt on Kyo's other side, bending over him as if to share a secret.

"Did you realize," he sneered. "That this girl thinks she's in love with you?" Kyo's head jerked towards Akito so fast that droplets of water from his still-wet hair hit Tohru in the face. "She doesn't know, does she?"

"Shut up," Kyo said, with more force than Tohru imagined possible. She was trembling all over and couldn't seem to stop.

"She doesn't," Akito concluded, smiling wickedly. "But I think she should, don't you?"

"Akito," Kyo said warningly, but his voice lacked the strength to make it convincing. Tohru didn't know if she wanted to hear what Akito had to say or not. Would it be all lies or would there be something there that she did want to know? Something that she had always wondered about. Besides, the longer Akito talked, the less likely he would hit someone.

"Is this about the curse?" Tohru squeaked, wishing her voice sounded more politely curious than terrified.

"Who do you think started the curse?" Akito hissed, staring pointedly at Kyo. Tohru had no answer. She didn't really know much about the curse at all, except for what it did to some of the Sohma family members. "Never mind, I forgot how stupid you are."

"Don't –" Kyo started, moving to stand again. He didn't make it very far before Akito kicked him down. If he hadn't already been weakened, it might have turned out differently that night, but Kyo stayed curled on the floor as Akito started raging again.

"It was him!" He shrieked. "The cat did it; he brought this down on all of us."

"How?" Tohru asked, her voice dry and worried.

"After the banquet," Akito said, watching Kyo intently, monitoring exactly how his words affected him. "The one the cat hadn't been invited to, he got jealous and angry and tried to get revenge on the rest of the accepted zodiac members. Only he didn't do it by himself; he went to an onryou, but he didn't think about it enough to know what would really happen if he asked something like that to fight his cause for him."

"What . . . what is it?" Tohru asked, hoping to slide further into the explanation without more violence.

"Oh, you've already seen it," Akito said condescendingly. "Or don't you remember that?"

"The cat's True Form," Tohru said more to herself than in answer. Her mind filled with the sound of rain and the image of a deformed, clawed, huge darkness that smelled like death.

"The cat's True Form," Akito purred. "He tied the monster to his own body to give him the power to take revenge on the zodiac, but since he is almost as stupid as you, it was easy for the monster to deceive him. The onryou took the cat's body and went after the zodiac, as promised, but with no intention of ever leaving him again."

Tohru looked at Kyo, twitching on the floor beside her. She tried to imagine the first monster, before it had taken over the cat. She tried even harder to figure out what any of what happened had anything to do with her friend.

"The zodiac animals were frightened of the onryou," Akito went on, obviously enjoying his narrative. "They understood where the cat hadn't that it wouldn't be satisfied with their destruction only. It would want to keep destroying forever. In order to protect themselves and those of the human world where they lived, they went to a family, known for their cunning and bravery, and pleaded with them for help. The animals promised wealth and power to the family if they would allow the animals to hide inside them. A bargain was struck, and the zodiac animals sealed themselves into hosts chosen from the Sohma household."

Tohru heard a tiny sound escape her throat.

"But hiding wasn't enough," Akito went on, scowling at Kyo. "The onryou went on a rampage, killing mindlessly, searching for its intended victims. One of the Sohmas, not a host, went out to put an end to the onryou so everyone could live in peace again. He went to the onryou with a short knife and battled with it for an entire night. Then, when the sun came up, he stabbed it through the heart and killed it."

A chill went through Tohru, even though she knew that it couldn't possibly be over. The cat couldn't be dead because he was hunched right next to her, breathing slowly and staring hard at the wooden floor.

"This was his worst mistake, because the onryou didn't die when the body it inhabited did. Both the cat's and the onryou's spirits fled the corpse and used the connecting knife to rush in and take over the body of the Sohma warrior. He was mutated into the True Form as the onryou continued his search of the zodiac.

"But the head of the Sohma household, a religious and wise man, fashioned beads from the bones of the original cat and used both his own and the cat's blood to form a prison for the connected cat and onryou spirits. He was able to seal the onryou into his family member in the same way the other zodiac members were sealed and then bound the monstrosity to his control. The Sohma warrior regained his human shape, though his eyes had changed color. As long as he wore the beads around his wrist, he could maintain his shape, and as long as the bond exists between the head of the Sohma family and the cat, the onryou is kept locked away and harmless."

Things were starting to make a little sense to Tohru now, if she could really trust Akito's words.

"But why," she began, then had to pause and swallow to wet her throat enough to speak. "Why do the other zodiac members change shape?"

"Because they demand complete loyalty from their hosts," Akito hissed. "If a host's body is stressed, the zodiac animal takes over to protect it as much as possible. And to make sure that none of the hosts will ever prioritize the life of a spouse or child over their agreement to keep the zodiac animal safe, the spirits have made it near impossible for cursed members to find love, prohibiting them from physical contact with members of the opposite sex. And when a host's body dies, the spirit finds the next Sohma to be born and takes a new body."

"There must be a way," Tohru mused, more to herself than to anyone else. "This can't go on forever. There has to be some way to free you."

"There is no way!" Akito yelled abruptly. "Don't you think we've thought of it? Don't you think we have tried everything that there is to try? The monster is immortal, a poison, an unbeatable entity. The only thing we can do it keep it away from us!" With his final words, he kicked Kyo again, all his fury whipped up again now that his explanation was over.

"And you think you love this thing," Akito said, uncomprehendingly. "And they all love you. It's not right. I'm the one who protects them. I'm the one who is sacrificing his life so they can live. They should love me – especially Yuki." He aimed another blow at Kyo's back, slamming his fist down harshly between Kyo's shoulders. "The cat ruins everything," he finished.

"Akito," Tohru managed, but wasn't sure she could trust herself to say anything more. Everything she could think of to say was probably wrong. "None of this is Kyo's fault. He's just as much a victim as you are."

"Shut up!" Akito demanded. "I'm sick to death of listening to you. You don't belong here, and I'm not going to allow this thing any happiness when he's taken everything away from us."

He seemed to lose all sense then. He dropped to his knees beside Kyo and then dragged them both upright, shoving Kyo tight against the wall.

"You don't deserve it," he said to Kyo, and then the fight really started. Kyo's attempts at defense were weak, and Akito did not fight fairly. Tohru watched for only a moment before she discovered that she had also risen from the floor.

"Get out of here," Kyo yelled at her, and she nodded, forcing herself to turn away from the scene, to shoot out the open door, to find someone who could help. She had taken a few unsteady steps forward when two things changed her mind. She heard a horrible cracking sound behind her followed by a nauseating moan from Kyo and the late afternoon sunlight glinted off her kitchen knife on the table. She wasn't going to run. She would be too late if she did; Kyo would be beaten to death before she could return. And the thought of trying to exist any more in this world without him was simply no longer an option. Akito would not take Kyo away from her, even if that meant she had to kill him.

Before thinking too much about her decision, she grabbed the hilt of the knife and changed direction one more time, heading toward the wall where Akito's back was to her. This had to stop. This would be the last violent act to end all the violence. Akito couldn't hurt anyone if she did this, and she had always been braver when defending her loved ones than when defending herself. She felt a burst of purpose. She might not be able to break the curse, but she could at least do this.

Kyo's bruised face came into view over Akito's shoulder as Tohru edged closer, raising the knife above her head to gain momentum to plunge it into the Sohma family's leader. Shocked fear took over the cat's expression as he realized what she was doing.

"No, Tohru, don't!" Kyo yelled, giving Akito plenty of warning time to turn around. Kyo dropped to his knees as Akito pivoted, grabbing tight to her wrist and stopping any motion of the knife. It seemed as though his fingers had cemented around her, that she would never be able to move again. His eyes were brightly furious, and his lips pulled back from his teeth.

"I should have done this a year ago," Akito said quietly, coldly, his rage tightened into one deadly, diamond point. "It would have made things so much simpler. I think even you would have thanked me for sparing you then." He tugged her wrist, pulling her close to him. She could smell his sharp scent. "I'm so sorry I didn't see this before. I'm going to take you away from them, forever. I will not be replaced."

Tohru felt her eyes widen as she understood what he was saying. With one more flex of his fingers, he relaxed her grip on the knife handle and took it for his own. Movements slowed down more than when Tohru had been in her dream earlier. Now she was no longer moving slowly; she couldn't move at all while the whole world swirled around her in vivid detail. She was beyond fear, but she did feel regret, a horrible sorrow as she realized that just as she was beginning to think she had some worth, some reason to keep living, now she was going to be permitted to die.

Instinct helped her grab Akito's hand as he brought the knifepoint down toward her heart. Once her skin touched his, time raced forward as if making up for when it had slowed a few seconds ago. With all her strength, she twisted the knife away from her, but still Akito moved forward jerkily, as if he couldn't stop. His body pressed into hers; he grunted in pain, and suddenly her body dropped backward, unable to keep up his weight and her own at that angle.

She felt her head smack onto the floor, from the back this time, and felt Akito land heavily on top of her, knocking her breath from her body momentarily. Immediately, wet warmth spread over her chest, and she could feel it dripping down her sides. Panicked, she pushed Akito off her, noticing only then that Kyo was also in the pile, his arms wrapped tightly around Akito's knees. In the next moment, she noticed that she was once again holding the knife, holding it so tightly that she wasn't sure she could put it down without someone's help to pry her fingers loose. She waited for pain to be the next thing she noticed, but that didn't seem to be coming. No, there was pain. Pain in her head from hitting the floor, and pain in her wrist where Akito had grabbed her so hard. There was no pain from what should be a stab wound in her chest.

"Dammit," Kyo swore, bringing her eyes over to where he was now moving in the near darkness. Akito was not moving at all, but he was making an odd sound, sort of a hissing, low moan. "Tohru, are you all right?"

"Yes," she heard herself answer automatically, wondering if it were really true.

"What did you do that for?" Kyo's voice was twinged with fear and he very slowly pulled away from Akito, who still was not moving. "That was so stupid." Tohru wasn't sure who he was talking to. "Akito, come on." He tugged Akito roughly, turning him over so he no longer sprawled facedown on the floor. The wheezing sound Akito made grew louder.

"Tohru, turn on the light," Kyo commanded.

Tohru felt a stinging sensation on her arm and realized that she was drawing the knife into her skin. She watched her hand drag the blade slowly up to her elbow, as if she were trying to pin her concentration down with the point. What had happened?

"Tohru, I need a light. I can't see how bad he's hurt," Kyo said, softly. He slowly checked Akito's body. Why should he care how badly Akito was hurt? Shouldn't he be a little happier that he wasn't getting beat up anymore?

"Snap out of it, Tohru," Kyo's voice was sharper now, but she could do nothing except cringe from it. Akito had said it himself, how worthless she was. He was so right. I can't do what you want, Kyo. I just can't. "Come on," Kyo commanded, getting harsher when she didn't respond to him. "Tohru, stop that!"

"What happened?" She asked, trying to get her knees to straighten, trying to make her fingers drop the handle. Her voice was so small compared to Kyo's.

"I grabbed Akito before he could stab you, and I think he fell on the knife," Kyo said, sharply. "I need a light and some towels before he bleeds to death." At last, his words released a small lock inside her and she found that she was in possession of herself again. Slowly, she pushed herself from the floor, leaving the knife by her knees. "Hurry up!"

"Right," Tohru squeaked, finding the strength to move somehow. It went against her being to turn on the lamp by her bed, having had it burned into her mind for so long that it was forbidden, yet her trembling fingers finally managed to push the button.

The sudden light shone wetly off the floor. Tohru was, by this point, very familiar with blood. She knew its coppery, warm scent. She knew how deep to make cuts, which way the blood droplets would run down her arms or drip from her fingers. She was an expert in her own suffering, but she was not prepared in any way for what she saw now.

She looked first at Kyo, horrified at the bruises on both his eyes, how blood also ran down his face from his nose and mouth, dripping onto his chest. She could see the blood from the cuts on her arm following her from where she had knelt on the floor to where she stood by the lamp. But after a moment's focus, all she could see was Akito's blood from the stab wound in his chest. It poured out in small gushes, every time his heart would beat. It dribbled from the corners of his mouth, and his breathing was wet with it. The strange hissing sound filled the room with each of his breaths.

"Towels, Tohru," Kyo said again. "Move!" Only at the abrupt command was she able to obey, moving to gather as many as she could find. She could hear Kyo still talking as she returned to his side.

"You stupid idiot," Kyo raged, fearfully. The only other sound in the room was a wet rasp from Akito as he breathed. Kyo snatched the towels away from her and hurriedly pushed them against Akito's chest. "What did you do that for?" Tohru hesitantly went to kneel on Akito's other side, watching as Kyo squeezed the fabric as hard as he could, watching as Akito's limbs twitched convulsively. Kyo looked up when she sat down, meeting her eyes in the dim light. She could see the shimmer of panic in his expression.

"You need to get out of here," Kyo panted, jerking his head toward the still-open door. "Run as far away as you can. Don't stop."

"What about you? You're hurt too!" She didn't know how badly, but remembered the awful cracking sound she'd heard just before she grabbed the knife. How could she leave him alone now?

"Get out!" Kyo shouted desperately. "Please, go."

"I'm going to find some help," she finally acquiesced, standing shakily and clumsily working her way to the exit. She wasn't exactly sure how long it had been since she had been outside the enclosure. It had been fully winter then, she knew, and now it was almost the spring. Two months, maybe more? From outside, the sun was still barely visible, streaking the clouds with even more blood. Which direction should she go? The Sohma compound was so large, how would she know where to find Hatori?

It doesn't matter, she told herself, taking a few hesitant steps away from the door, leaving it open. Everyone needed to know. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself so she could move forward.

"Help!" She tried to scream, but her voice was so quiet she could barely hear herself. Someone! Please come help us. She started walking, gaining speed as she finally decided on a direction. "Help us," she whispered, not able to break the cold quietness of the grounds. "Please, someone." She moved past immaculately trimmed hedges, past gracefully planted trees, past so many tightly closed doors, past innumerable Sohma secrets. The place was so deserted, so hopeless. She was running now, running without really looking where she was going. "Help me," she still repeated with every footfall.

"Hey, what's wrong?" A voice called after her, and she stopped moving in an instant, sliding on the muddy ground and ending up on her knees again, her clothes a disgusting mix of mud and gore. She looked at the ground, breathing hard. Footsteps hurried over to her, hands touched her questioningly, words filtered above her head. Help me, she thought frantically. They're bleeding to death.

"It's Tohru," the voice said, surprised. "But I thought. . . Tohru, what are you doing here?" Small, white hands took hers gently, pulling to help her to her feet. She couldn't get off the ground.

"Help me," she mouthed, swallowing and then trying again to make enough noise to be understood. "Hatori."

"I'll go get him," another, deeper voice assured her, and footsteps dashed off in another direction of the estate.

"Haru's going for him," the first voice told her, but she didn't find much comfort in that. Haru? There was a fleeting image of someone, but it was quickly replaced with the terrifying scene she had just left.

"He's bleeding," she said, her hands clawing at her face with the memory. Kyo was hurt; Akito was too, and it was always all her fault. What if he died? What if something horrible happened to Kyo? Why had he done that, anyway? Why hadn't he just let Akito do what he wanted? It would have been better for everyone if he had.

"Tohru, are you ok? Who's bleeding? What's the matter?" The soft hand cupped her chin and raised her eyes to meet those of the speaker. He was cute, possessing the same graceful beauty that all Sohmas seemed to have. His hair was fine and light blonde, and his large brown eyes were full of concern.

"Kyo," she whispered, shaking her head. What was she doing on the ground? She had to help Kyo!

"Kyo's here too?" The slight curls around his face bobbed as the boy looked back in the direction she had come from. "Tohru, what are you doing?" He took her hands in his again, pulling them away from her face. When she looked into his eyes this time, she noticed tears. "You don't recognize me, do you?"

"Please help me," Tohru said again, not sure of what else to say. There was blood everywhere, everything was stained. Kyo was going to die. It was all her fault.

"Sure, Tohru," the boy assured, pulling her again and finally managing to get her to her feet. "I'll help you. Where did you come from?" He took her hand and together they started moving back to the place where Kyo pressed towels on Akito's chest. Would he still be alive when they got back? Would Kyo be angry with her for bringing help too late? What would she do if something happened to him? Would she want to do anything?

Even though they moved slowly, Tohru made it back to Kyo before Hatori did. Kyo was still in position, keeping firm pressure on Akito's wound. It was very dark inside the apartment now, the sun falling out of the window. Kyo didn't look up when they entered, his head bowed in concentration. Tohru let go of the hand she was holding and knelt on Akito's other side.

"Kyo," she whispered, unable to really focus on anything else. Please tell me that we're ok, Kyo. Tell me that everything is going to be all right. Kyo, for his part, lifted his head wearily and looked at Tohru with fevered eyes. Tohru put her hands over his on the towels, wishing desperately to help him.

"I thought I told you to run away," Kyo told her, his voice soft and without anger. He sounded so tired.

"I," Tohru started, but found that she couldn't really say anything. How could she leave him like this? Why had he told her to do that?

"What happened?" the blonde boy asked, shocked at the scene. "Kyo?" Kyo turned his head to the figure in the doorway.

"Momiji," he said, recognizing the voice more than he could see who was there. "Bring Hatori."

"Haru's already doing that," Momiji answered, stepping forward hesitantly into the apartment. "What is this place? What happened to Akito?"

"Then get her out of here," Kyo went on, jerking his head slightly in Tohru's direction. "It's not safe."

"What do you mean, Kyo?" Momiji asked, sounding uncertain.

Before Kyo could answer, more shapes materialized out of the darkness. First into the room was Hatori, his motion sure and rapid. Almost as quick, Kazuma and Shigure entered, immediately taking positions around Akito's fallen form.

"What have you done?" Hatori hissed, assessing the scene.

"It was an accident," Tohru defended Kyo, knowing that he would be punished for this act of violence against Akito.

"Momiji," Hatori instructed. "You and Haru take Tohru to my house and lock yourselves inside. Don't come out for any reason, no matter what you hear, until I come to get you, understand?"

"Yes," Momiji said, curious but understanding the need for obedience. Tohru wasn't ready to go anywhere. She could not be separated from Kyo. Shigure and Kazuma had taken his place in keeping Akito's lifeblood from pouring out of him. He now knelt quietly a little ways apart, his head again bowed. Tohru rushed to kneel beside him, taking his hands in hers.

"I don't want to go without you," she said, trying to catch his eyes in the darkness. His hands were limp and sticky. "Come with us, Kyo."

"Kyo has to stay here, Tohru," Hatori continued, while Momiji placed calming hands on her shoulders. "Go with Momiji now."

"No!" Tohru shouted. Kazuma and Shigure were lifting Akito now to carry him somewhere with light and medical supplies. Hatori would save his life. He had to. "It wasn't his fault. It was an accident."

"Tohru," Kyo's voice was weak, but she latched on to the comforting familiarity of it. "Do what Hatori says."

"What about you? I will stay with you. We're supposed to stay together." Kyo pulled his hands out of her grasp fiercely, the sudden movement causing him to lose his balance and fall to his side on the floor. She couldn't leave him. He needed help. He was hurt too. She was supposed to take care of him. "Kyo."

"Get away from me!" He growled with panic in his tone, reminding Tohru of the night when his fever had made him say things he couldn't remember. His voice had sounded just like this. She couldn't leave him now; he needed her. She had to be strong and stay here. Hatori needed to help Akito, and she had to make sure that Kyo was ok until Hatori could help him too.

"No," she protested gently but firmly, sure now that Kyo didn't really know what he was saying anymore. "It's going to be ok."

"Go!" Kyo shouted, crawling away from them as if he couldn't get up anymore.

"Tohru, come on," Momiji pleaded, but Haru was the one who hauled her to her feet again. She strained against his trained grip, watching as Kyo moved from all of them, into the darkest part of the apartment where he would be all alone. How many times would she be forced to leave him by himself? She just couldn't allow this. And yet, Haru's hands were turning her away, toward the door, and she found that even if she dragged her feet, he could still half carry her with little difficulty. This choice was already made and not by her.

"Kyo," Hatori said as Momiji and Haru forcefully marched her out the door. "I'm locking you in for the moment. Will you be all right until I come back?"

"Get her away," Tohru heard Kyo saying. "Keep her away from here."

"I will," Hatori promised. Tohru dug her heels into the mud as Hatori shut the door firmly and locked it. He rushed past her on his way to help Akito.

"Wait!" Tohru yelled, turning her head to see the place she had been kept prisoner. There was no longer any light inside. Kyo was all alone. "No."

"It's only for a little while, Tohru," Momiji murmured comfortingly. "Come with us. Kyo will meet up with us later."

Tohru felt her body detach, her mind shut down again. She couldn't do this! She needed to go back to help Kyo! But he had told her to leave. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to help? Why did he want her to go away?

"It'll be ok, Tohru," Momiji told her. "Everything is going to be fine."

She didn't believe him at all.


	13. I'm Listening But There's No Sound

**Author's Note: Good news, I've finally figured out what I'm going to do for the ending (Thanks to Anonymous Human for the email brainstorm sessions that inspired it). Why didn't it have an ending before? It did . . . but then it changed, and again, and then one more time. The good news is that now that I've figured it out, there won't be such long breaks between chapters. This is getting finished! SOON!**

**Chapter Thirteen: I'm Listening But There's No Sound**

Shigure often found himself standing at Hatori's side while his friend moved efficiently and confidently through crisis. He'd watched him ease hurts and soothe sickness, handed him towels, bandages, and water. He had never once been anxious that Hatori could not fix whatever it was that needed it. It was how they had grown up. Ayame and Shigure could lead their flippant lifestyles because Hatori would always be there, always with the answers, always with the ability to make everything better.

But Hatori was only one man, and tonight Shigure was afraid that having him around might not be enough. Kazuma had helped him carry Akito into the main house, into Akito's bedroom. All the while they walked, Hatori was directing an ambulance, something that had never been done before. Akito could never stand for anyone besides Hatori and the other Junnishi to touch him, that's why Hatori was a doctor in the first place. Yet Hatori had known with one glance that this wound was beyond him. Shigure now sat at Akito's side, his hands over the towels that Kyo had placed there, but now there was one more on top since the first two were soaked through. Akito's face was pale and his eyes hadn't opened yet. He had spoken, so softly, to ask for a drink, but Hatori had refused him, knowing that he was deeply in shock, perhaps irreversible.

Shigure desperately wanted to know what had happened. It was a coincidence that Kazuma and he had visited Hatori that evening. They'd only done it because of the weather. The rain had been so relentless the past week that both of them were concerned about the prisoners. They wanted to make sure that everyone was doing all right, including Hatori. Of course, he denied them access to the building, but that wasn't much of a surprise. No one went there without a good reason. He had given them some details, though. Kyo wasn't feeling well, an unfortunate result of the rainstorm. Tohru was doing all right, considering. Was Hatori concerned? Of course, but the teenagers were so upset at the thought of separation, he thought it would do more harm than good to bring Kyo into the main house. Besides, since his illness was a consequence of the weather, his normal remedies wouldn't really have much of an effect until the rain moved on. He'd assured them that he was keeping a close eye on the two of them anyway, just in case.

But then Haru had stormed in, calling for Hatori. That in itself wasn't much cause for alarm, but then he said that Tohru was asking for him, that she seemed desperate, that she had scratches all over her face and blood covering her clothes.

Those words made all of them move quickly towards the shed, even though Haru followed protesting that Tohru wasn't in that direction, that she was with Momiji in another part of the compound. Shigure wondered how she had gotten out. Hatori didn't even glance where Haru pointed, sure that the trouble would be right where Tohru should have been. Of all the nightmarish scenarios he had imagined while he ran, the truth surpassed it in an instant.

Akito shivered slightly under Shigure's hands, and Hatori draped his lower body with another blanket. "Hang in there, Akito," Shigure encouraged. "The ambulance is almost here."

"I'm going to Kyo," Kazuma said decidedly, getting to his feet.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Hatori cautioned, his attention mostly focused on Akito. "It will be dangerous right now."

"It's not right for him to be alone after this. You said he was sick, didn't you? I just want to make sure he's all right. I don't think he'd hurt me."

"I don't think he would either, but if he didn't know who you were, that would be different."

Kazuma shook his head. "There is no difference. I'm going." Hatori exchanged a long look with Kyo's foster father and knew that, as always, there would be no talking any sense into him. He would go no matter what.

"Take a first aid kit with you. Who knows what happened before we got there?"

"I'll ask him. I imagine he might be able to tell us more than Tohru can." With that, Kazuma left the room. Shigure turned his attention back to the head of the family who remained unresponsive. No one had dared to move Kyo's makeshift bandage, so no one knew what kind of wound was under it. Had Kyo stabbed him? Why was there so much blood? Or did there just seem to be a lot? What was Akito doing there in the first place? Why did Tohru maintain that it was an accident?

The ambulance arrived a few minutes later. Three men entered the main house with a stretcher and oxygen, quickly taking Shigure's place at Akito's side. One of them looked at Hatori.

"Can you tell us what happened?" He asked.

"No one really knows," Hatori replied, tiredly. He was able to give some information about Akito, his age, the long list of medications that he took on a semi-regular basis, his dislike of hospitals.

"I'll go with him," Shigure offered, getting to his feet when the response team lifted Akito and started toward the door. Hatori nodded.

"Keep in touch," he said, the words heavy with hidden meaning. Shigure nodded solemnly and grabbed an umbrella from the stand at the entry. The rain had started again.

"Kyo," Kazuma warned the young man of his presence as he turned the key Hatori had left in the lock. It was dark inside, as expected, but surprisingly the door would not open. Kazuma turned the knob and pushed harder against it with his shoulder. What was going on? He heard a rough scraping sound and the door gave way several inches. Kyo had barricaded the door? "Kyo, I'm coming in." With the strength and precision that his students possessed only in part, Kazuma forced his way into Tohru's shed past the kitchen table and the two chairs that blocked the entry. The light near Tohru's bed was still on, casting a small glow over a truly gruesome picture.

There were half-chopped vegetables and a fish lying on the floor, smeared with blood. Everything seemed to be smeared with it. There were large drops near the kitchen, and a stained knife glistened darkly there too. Kazuma picked it up, such an ordinary thing. This must have been the cause of Akito's wound, but had Kyo really done something so violent against his relative? What would have provoked him into such an action?

The apartment was small, but even if it hadn't been, there was smeared blood heading right toward the bathroom door, which was also shut tightly, telling Kazuma exactly which way the cat had gone. Kazuma remembered that Tohru would sometimes lock herself inside there when she wanted to be alone, when her situation grew too much for her to handle. Still holding the knife, he knocked on the door.

"Kyo? It's me. Are you all right?"

"Go away," came a very faint voice through the wood. Kazuma paused in sorrow for a moment, sad at the tone of that voice. Kyo had always been isolated, but that didn't mean that he liked it, that he was ok with it. Even though his words said that he wanted no one with him, that tone said something else entirely.

"I'm coming in," Kazuma said again. For a second, he thought he would have to kick in the door, but that was a little dangerous since he didn't know exactly where Kyo was on the other side. In the end, he noticed the door hinges located on his side. It was a simple matter to pull the pins and remove the door. No wonder Hatori had never really worried about Tohru when she locked herself in. He had always known that he could force his way inside if necessary.

Kyo didn't move through this procedure, and in the dim light near Tohru's bed, Kazuma could make him out, curled on his side on the floor. The room smelled of blood and vomit. Kyo clutched a shirt around him for warmth, but hadn't actually put it on. There was still water in the bathtub. Although Kazuma wanted to ask what had happened, he couldn't find it in himself to say anything while Kyo lie there that way. He needed help, and no matter what he said, some comfort too.

"Where are you hurt?" Kazuma asked, trying to get into a good position to examine but finding that difficult since the bathroom was so small. He would have to move him closer to the light, where they would have a little more room.

"Please go," Kyo whispered, his eyes tightly closed. "It's dangerous."

"You're not going to hurt me, Kyo," Kazuma assured, lifting his student from the floor without resistance.

"I don't want to."

Kazuma held Kyo tightly and moved to where a mattress lay on the floor near Tohru's bed. He stretched Kyo out on it, restricting Kyo from curling up again. "Let me look at you, ok?" He allowed Kyo to keep his hold on the shirt, but moved it away from his bare chest. Using one of the sheets, he cleared away the worst of the blood to determine how bad Kyo was injured. It seemed, however, that most of the blood belonged to Akito. All Kazuma could really see were bruises and a clearly broken nose.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Kazuma asked, as he prepared to clean the blood from Kyo. There wasn't much he could do for his nose, or for any internal damage that might have been done by Akito's beating.

"I was taking a bath," Kyo began, his voice hypnotic and expressionless. "And Tohru was going to make something for dinner. But then I heard shouting, so I hurried out to see what was going on." Kyo paused.

"Was Akito attacking Tohru?" Kazuma tried to help him. It wouldn't be unreasonable for such a thing to have happened. Hatori had mentioned that Akito had been in a horrible mood that evening because it appeared that Yuki was nowhere to be found. He wouldn't respond to phone calls, and no one really knew where he was.

"He was going to kill her," Kyo said, his eyes still closed and his face pained. "I stopped him, but we fell." Kazuma nodded to himself, understanding. If Akito, in a rage, had been after Tohru with a knife, and if Kyo had tried to stop him, it would have been an easy thing for Akito to have fallen on the blade in the confusion and the dark. "Idiot."

"It's ok, Kyo," Kazuma comforted, unsure who Kyo meant the insult for, but not wanting him to get upset right now. He found a clean shirt for him and helped him into it, noticing the wince as Kyo moved his arms through the sleeves. Then he wrapped him in a blanket and went to get him something to drink. There was still broth hot on the stove. Tohru had been making a soup. Kazuma felt a sting of bitterness. They would have been so comfortable tonight, together in this little place with each other if Akito had just left them alone. Tohru would have tempted Kyo into eating something to help him feel better, and she would have soothed him until the ceremony took him away from her. It just wasn't fair.

He could see Kyo tremble alarmingly as he returned with some of Tohru's broth in a cup. He closed the distance between them quickly, setting the broth aside so he could gather up his foster son in his arms.

"Master," Kyo whispered around chattering teeth. "Please leave. I don't feel right." He tried to push himself away, but Kazuma was much stronger right now. "I'm afraid."

"It's the rain," Kazuma stated, firmly. "Soon it will blow over; Akito will be fine, and you'll be ok too."

"No," Kyo protested, beginning to struggle now. "I can feel Akito. The bond."

"Shh, Kyo," Kazuma pleaded. From the moment he'd first taken Kyo in, he had dreaded a moment like this. Where he would have to test his courage against his love. Where he would have to prove that he meant it when he told himself that he wasn't afraid, that he did love Kyo, not pity him. He always thought that he understood his emotions well enough that it would not be difficult. But Kyo moved uncomfortably against him, and they both felt panic shooting through their spines.

"I don't want this," Kyo said, tears in his voice. "Don't make me do this. Go."

"I won't," Kazuma said, fiercely, as if convincing himself. "I'm not going to leave you alone this time, Kyo. Not ever again."

The ambulance siren screamed through Tokyo's streets, but Shigure didn't really hear it. All of his senses were tuned to one heartbeat. He was listening intently to the beeps that told him Akito's condition, watching intently as his chest rose and fell. Akito's black eyes were closed now, shadowed in a too-pale face. Dimly, Shigure was aware of the paramedics surrounding him, explaining the need for a blood supplement, talking about a punctured lung, and even more importantly, shock.

"He's slipping," one of them said. "I don't think-"

"No," Shigure denied, grabbing tight to Akito's hand. "Drive faster. He has to make it." The consequences of losing Akito now would be devastating. His life wouldn't be the only one destroyed. Any time the holder of the monster's bond died before the ceremony, it meant the end of at least three lives. Briefly, Shigure thought of Tohru, of her flat eyes and damaged mind. If they lost Akito now, she would total with the casualties. He didn't think he could handle that responsibility, knowing that her involvement with his family had largely been because of his persuasion, of his manipulation.

He heard behind the beeping one of the paramedics on the radio, repeating carefully what blood type should be ready the moment they entered the door. He kept saying words like pneumothorax and stage four hypovolemic shock. The only thing Shigure really understood was the frequency and strength of the beeps on the screen near Akito's head.

The sirens continued to shriek, and the paramedics continued their frenzied movement around Akito, placing an IV into his hand, monitoring the oxygen that pulsed rhythmically, though it wasn't stopping the blue tint from creeping into his lips. The hand that Shigure held was unnervingly cold.

"Akito," Shigure whispered in the din. "I'm so sorry."

As if he could hear him, the head of the Sohma family opened his eyes. At first, they rolled back into his head, but soon focused on the dog. Shigure bit his lip. There was an eternity of pain layered in the black. Pain of every kind – regret, fear, loneliness, loss, desperation, and behind it all a dull hopelessness that pleaded.

"Don't you dare," Shigure ordered, louder than he meant to say anything. But he had to yell or he wouldn't be able to choke out any kind of intelligible sentence past the hardness in his throat. "We need you Akito."

And even though he truly meant what he said, he knew it was useless. There was a finality to Akito's expression. There was a good-bye in his excruciating stare.

Then it was gone. Akito's eyelids shuttered the pain, locking Shigure away from him forever. "No," Shigure denied, shaking Akito's hand. This couldn't happen. But then another sound joined the cacophony of emergency, an eerie, high-pitched wail that followed the flat line running across the heart monitor.

"Dammit," one of the paramedics swore, and they jumped to action, at first pushing against Akito's chest and then moving to electric means to try and persuade his heart to beat again. Each jolt spiked the line on the monitor, but no reassuring beat began after. Shigure couldn't take his eyes off it. It peaked as current slammed through Akito's veins, then fell once the paddles were removed from his chest. There was no more blood leaking from his wound. There were no more heartbeats pushing it out.

The medics didn't give up until the ambulance reached the hospital, deftly continuing their efforts even as they pulled the stretcher out of the vehicle and starting running with it into the brightly-lit building. Shigure hurried after, losing sight of Akito in the whirl of white that flocked to join the original team. They all rushed to a part of the emergency room that had obviously been readied for their arrival. Shigure could see the units of blood stacked on a sterile, silver tray. A doctor suddenly materialized in the chaos, a mask over his features and gloves covering his hands. The AED machine pumped another round of electricity through Akito's unprotesting form, lurching it up from the stretcher and plummeting it back down without promise. The doctor motioned for the medics to keep the paddles to the side while he put his fingers against Akito's throat to check for a pulse manually. The monitor had trailed behind them all this way, and it still showed the same line that had started in the ambulance.

Bravely, the doctor pulled away the towels covering Akito's wound, probing it gently to see the extent of the damage. As he wiped away the congealing blood, it seemed odd that there was only a small incision in Akito's lower chest. Such a tiny hurt to have caused all this turmoil, all this damage. After another moment's inspection, the doctor's gaze went to the clock on the wall.

"That's not good enough," Shigure accused, turning on the doctor, not allowing him to pronounce a time. "He can't die."

"I'm sorry, sir," the doctor said, sympathetically but with a tone of finality. "He lost too much blood. There's nothing more we can do." He nodded to his staff, looking again at the clock. The next words he uttered blurred in Shigure's ears; he hadn't really even heard them properly. He was still fixated on the part where the doctor assumed that there was nothing more that could be done. Didn't he understand? Didn't he know what was at stake? This wasn't just one man's life here in front of him, but even if it were, was that really the best they could do?

The activity in the room did not decrease, but it did change. Some of the nurses ambled apologetically away to serve other patients, ones with heartbeats, ones that could be saved. The blood disappeared from the tray, unused, for the moment. Someone pulled the IV from Akito's hand where it left a small puncture in the skin but no blood or bruise.

Shigure stared at Akito's face, his emotions overwhelming. There was disbelief at the front, unable to come to terms with how this evening had changed so quickly from a sleepy, rainy chat with Hatori and Kazuma to this too-bright room at the hospital. He felt guilty, too, as if he were somehow responsible for this. It was no secret that Akito was not a favorite of the Sohma household, even though he was in charge. His moods were unpredictable and often violent; his attitude childish and petty. But Shigure could remember, vaguely, when Akito had been the rat. If Yuki knew how much they resembled each other, he might have understood better why Akito felt such need to keep him close. Maybe he hadn't given him the respect that he deserved. Maybe he really didn't comprehend the importance of Akito's life or what it really meant to him as a member of the zodiac. As that thought entered his mind, his thoughts snapped around it, suddenly drenching him in fear. Akito wasn't going to open his eyes again. The bond would be broken by now. Wasting no more time, the dog bounded to the nearest phone, dialing Hatori's number. They would need every second he could give them, and he hoped that it wasn't already too late.

Hatori hurried into his house, closing the door securely behind him and pausing with his head resting against the wood. He could feel three pairs of eyes draped heavily against his back. A moment ago, all he wanted was to be here, where his things settled comfortably in a familiar order. But this was far from over. Secrets were going to be demanded, and he would have to answer them all.

"Momiji," he said, relieved that his voice didn't betray his inner unease. "Call Tsuki and tell her to spread an alert. I'm going to secure the inner gates, and we need everyone to stay inside tonight. No one can go out for any reason. She'll understand."

Momiji looked troubled, questioning. Tsuki was the head of the Sohma servants; she lived in Akito's quarters and knew almost everything. Hatori had drilled her for just this sort of event; she would take care of the rest of the family, who would hopefully pass through this night without knowing exactly what was happening. "Go on," he encouraged, and the rabbit jumped up to do as he was told.

"What about Kyo?" Tohru's voice sounded loud and surprisingly demanding, directly opposite her posture. She sat curled on a cushion on the floor with Haru cleaning the blood from her hands and face. Her eyes were startlingly clear and angry. Her question wasn't unexpected. How could he explain his actions in a satisfying manner? How could he make her understand that Kyo wasn't in danger as much as he was danger? "He's hurt. I heard something snap before."

"I'll go to Kyo as soon as it's safe," Hatori promised, coming to take Haru's place at her side.

"What's going on?" Haru asked, his voice confused but still calm.

"Haru," Hatori said, bringing his thoughts inward, focusing on the most immediate problem first so he could keep his emotions as calm as possible. "Could you bring me my surgical kit?"

"Why wouldn't it be safe?" Tohru insisted, uncomprehending, her arm tensed in Hatori's fingers. He barely heard her as he concentrated intently on the wound, a long gash running down her forearm from elbow to wrist. Had Akito cut her? The wound was too clean to be her fingernails this time. This tear down her forearm had obviously been made with something sharp. "He's hurt," Tohru repeated. "Please, Hatori, we have to go back."

"No," Hatori said, accepting the bag that Haru brought him from the other side of the room, pulling it open and reaching in for a disinfectant. "Not until I hear from Shigure."

"Why?" Tohru asked again, and Hatori sighed, rubbing her skin with a numbing agent before he started stitching it up. She didn't even acknowledge what he was doing to her. She was much too focused on why he was keeping her away from Kyo. He hadn't meant to ever tell her this, especially now that he guessed how much she cared for the cat. Yet things being the way they were, he didn't think he had much choice. He needed to make a plan anyway, just in case the worst thing that possibly could happen might be moments away.

"It's the beads," Hatori explained, not hearing himself speak, hearing another voice, the one that had explained it to him on another dark night. "They keep the Cat bonded to the head of house. If they are taken off, the Cat can't prevent a vengeful spirit from taking over his shape, but he can keep it under his control because of the added mental strength given to him by the bond with the head. If the leader who holds the bond dies before it can be passed on to someone else, then Kyo isn't strong enough to keep it contained."

"So Kyo really can turn into a monster," Haru mumbled, sounding detached from the conversation as he methodically wiped up the gore that had dripped from Tohru's arm onto the polished wood floor.

"That's not true," Tohru whispered, suddenly trembling. "Kyo's not a monster."

"Not exactly," Hatori agreed with Tohru. "Kyo and the spirit have little to do with each other consciously, even though they do share a body just as we share with our zodiac animal spirit, and our personalities are heavily influenced by them."

"What happens if the bond is broken?" Momiji asked fearfully, standing in the doorway, not quite asking what they were all asking silently. What happens if Akito dies?

"Then we'll need to create a new one," Hatori said simply, knowing it was far from simple. To trap the onryou, first Yuki would have to create a bond with a Sohma volunteer, someone who would take the cat's place in the curse by killing him.

It had been tried before, by rats in pain who mistakenly thought that by killing the cat, they could remove the horror of the Original Form. It was quickly discovered by Sohma ancestors that whomever took it upon themselves to take the cat's life also took his place. Both spirits would flee a dying body into a new one, that of the assassin, and everything began again. So they existed, Akito and Kyo, the rat, the cat, and the onryou, in a miasma of hate and hurt, each one too important to the balance of the curse to be removed from it. Each one secretly convinced that if the other weren't there, it would solve everything.

"We'll need to find Yuki," Hatori said out loud, planning ahead, keeping himself grounded by working the tiny stitches down Tohru's arm. She never looked to see what he was doing, but he could tell she was extremely intent on what he said. "Either way this goes tonight, Akito will have to transfer the bond."

Haru put down the cloth he was using to wipe the floor to pull out his cell phone. "He's probably in Hinoi," he said. "What should I tell him?"

"Tell him that Akito's seriously injured," Hatori ordered, ignoring for the moment that Yuki had not stopped his visits to Hinoi despite knowing that Tohru was no longer there. "Have him meet me at the hospital as fast as he can get there."

Hatori thought back to the only other time he had done a transfer. They would need the short knife, the one that had created the first Sohma host to the cat and the vengeful spirit. There was the bowl, the tiny brush stained scarlet to ritually paint the beads. The black velvet bag that held new beads polished from the bones of the first cat's skeleton, to replace any that had grown fragile or damaged through constant use. All of these materials were hiding in a black box that Akito kept within his rooms. Hatori knew where it was.

But how could they perform the ceremony with Akito in the emergency room and Kyo in Tohru's shed? The last time an emergency transfer occurred, everyone had been in one place, safe within the inner gates of the Main House. He couldn't risk taking Kyo to Akito, nor could he bring Akito back from the hospital. This was going to be harder than he thought.

"I'll meet them there," Hatori said, solidifying his plan. He would go to Akito, meet Yuki there, assuming that Haru could indeed find their soon-to-be leader and get him to respond, perform the first half of the ceremony, then bring Yuki back to Kyo for the second part. With luck, there would be enough time. "But first I have to get something from Akito's room. Everyone stay here until I come back." Momiji and Haru nodded seriously, understanding the tone and knowing that it was best to just do as they were told. Tohru, however, stared at him blankly, uncomprehending of his reasoning. "You too, Tohru; stay here."

"He shouldn't be alone," she said accusingly. "This isn't his fault."

"He's not alone," Hatori promised, finishing the final bandage around her wrist. "His master is with him, and this will all be over soon."

Breathing deeply to try and match his outward calm to the inward nervousness, Hatori quickly bandaged Tohru's arm. "Remember what I said," he told them fiercely. "Don't move, no matter what you hear. I'll be right back."

Deliberately, Hatori pulled his coat on one more time, hesitating just barely at the doorway, peering into the rainy darkness. There is nothing to be frightened of yet, he told himself, willing his body to move into the unknown of the inner compound. Shigure would have called you if something had changed, if something were wrong. There's no reason to wait.

"Hatori?" Someone behind him asked in a voice small and uncertain. He didn't look over his shoulder to see who it was.

"Stay," he commanded one more time, then took the first step over his threshold on his way to Akito's rooms.

Kazuma rubbed Kyo's back in the darkness, listening for any sounds outside of the shed besides the rain, waiting for Hatori to come and tell him it would be all right. Kyo no longer struggled, but he wasn't still either. From time to time he would make small sounds of discomfort, of fright, of sorrow. There didn't seem to be anything Kazuma could do to quiet the trembling. If it didn't stop soon, he thought he would take Kyo away from here himself, regardless of the risk. He was hurt and sick, and he shouldn't have to suffer like this. How long were they supposed to sit here and wait for some word? How long should it take to make sure Akito was stable?

Unexpectedly, Kyo stiffened against him, causing Kazuma to jump in surprise. He studied the cat, fear rising in his throat, but he didn't know what kind. "What is it?" He asked, concerned. "What's going on?"

Kyo pulled himself out of Kazuma's arms fiercely, curling up on the bed with his fingers clenched tightly to his shoulders. The shaking increased. Was this a result of his injuries? Was he going into some kind of shock? "Kyo, talk to me," Kazuma commanded, kneeling beside the bed, searching for some indication of what was happening. Kyo's hands shifted from his shoulders to clutch at his head, shaking it harshly.

"Let's get you out of here," Kazuma said, standing up so he could lift Kyo and take him somewhere he could get the medical treatment he needed. "We're not waiting anymore; you need help." He grabbed Kyo's arm to help pull him upright, just above where the beads rested against his skin. The unexpected stickiness brought him up short, making him pause and look at Kyo's arm. He thought he'd cleaned off all the blood, but the warm wetness he felt was unmistakable, and it hadn't been there a moment ago.

"What?" He heard himself ask aloud, turning Kyo's arm to get a better look. Had he missed something? "Oh no." Kyo pulled himself free of Kazuma's suddenly fragile grasp, staring at his wrist, watching in horror as blood bubbled out from the beads, running down his arm as if they were melting. It was as if all the blood that had ever been painted over the bones was draining out in a flood, drenching Kyo to his elbow, disintegrating the ones that had not ever been stained. The beads disappeared in a matter of seconds, completely liquefied into a scarlet glove that dripped ominously on the blankets. Kazuma took another step backward as the scene speared his understanding, fighting with himself on what he should do. Kyo lifted his eyes, already changing color, to look one last time on his master. Kazuma drowned in fear and pain.

"Run," Kyo pleaded, the last word he managed before a horrible, mangled growl clawed its way out of his throat. Kazuma pivoted rapidly, but knew he couldn't outrun Kyo when he was in the Original Form. He dashed outside anyway, instinct moving his limbs better than his reason could have. Behind him he heard Kyo scream, heard it change into a sinister snarl. He heard the wood of the shed creak and give way against Kyo's strength, and in another moment he felt red, hot pain slash across his back. He tripped, falling face down into the mud, pushing himself over onto his wounded back in time to see the Monster's teeth gaping open, see its head plummet towards his exposed neck.

They didn't speak after Hatori left them, each too caught up in their own thoughts to have much of a discussion. Tohru clenched her hands in her lap to prevent herself from digging her nails into the fresh bandage Hatori had just fastened to her newest wound. Kyo wouldn't be happy to know she'd been doing that in his absence. She wanted him to be pleased with how she was coping without him. She needed him to understand that she could be strong for him, that she would do anything she could to be what he needed.

"How long do you think it will take Hatori to come back?" Momiji asked, mostly to himself. Tohru wasn't sure what they expected Hatori to do. He'd never done anything without specific orders from Akito, and now that Akito was out of the way, how could he possibly come up with a plan on his own? And even if he did, how could he be trusted to do what was right? Hadn't he already left Kyo to himself? No, it was up to her to help Kyo. Hatori being gone made absolutely no difference.

A scream abruptly sounded outside, splintering Tohru's thoughts apart, a sound that wasn't human in any way, followed by the unmistakable noise of breaking wood. Momiji hugged himself tighter. Haru put an arm around his shoulders. Tohru jerked to her feet. She knew that sound; her heart was making it now, only silently. That had to be Kyo. Something horrible was happening to him.

"He needs help," Tohru said firmly. "I'm going out there."

"No, Tohru," Momiji pleaded, crying. "There's nothing you can do. The curse-"

"I don't care about the curse!" Tohru shouted, surprising even herself with her ferocity. "I've never cared about it. I don't care about the zodiac or the ceremony or the secret or anything else. I just care about Kyo, and I'm going to him right now."

Before anyone could do anything to stop her, she threw open Hatori's door and rushed out. She was not going to hesitate this time. She was not going to let anything keep her from doing what she knew was right. Who cared about the consequences? Who cared what anyone else thought? The only thing that mattered right then was Kyo, the only thing that mattered was that they stay together, the way she had promised. Resolute, she made her way back toward her prison. Behind her, she could dimly make out the sound of a phone ringing.

Hatori replaced the tatami mat on Akito's floor, the black box he needed clutched under his arm. He had made sure that everything was inside as it should be. He noticed his hands shaking slightly as he stood up, wishing he had the time to indulge in a cigarette. But there is still time, he told himself. If Shigure hasn't called by now, then it's likely that things are going well. He pulled his cell phone from his coat pocket to briefly make sure that he hadn't missed any calls. The time winked at him, but nothing else. See? He assured himself. It's not over yet.

But then he heard something that made him drop the box, spilling the contents all over the floor. It wasn't his phone. Over the sound of the storm outside, he could distinctly hear the monster screaming, then the thick break of wood. The shed hadn't stood a chance.

"Kazuma," Hatori whispered, hoping that he had escaped. How foolish he had been to let him go! But they both knew the consequences; they both knew that this might happen. And he had gone anyway.

Now there was only one way to stop it. Hatori knelt, scooping the bowl and knife back into the velvet lined container. They would have to call Yuki again. There would be no need for him to waste time traveling to the hospital now. He paused again on Akito's doorstep. Where would it be? Where would it go first? How long could he contain it? Would it be long enough? His fingers tightened their hold on the box as he stepped uncertainly into the new darkness, hoping he wouldn't see it, hoping it wouldn't see him, hoping that Yuki would hurry, hoping that someone would volunteer to take Kyo's place.

"We should go after her," Haru said softly, peering out a crack he had opened in Hatori's door. Momiji nodded, but his eyes were large and terrified.

"But Hari told us to stay here," he rationalized. Of course, that was before Tohru had gone off on her own.

"You really want to just wait here to see how it all goes down?" Haru asked, tauntingly, his tone indicating that he wasn't aware of the full consequences of what he was suggesting. Momiji bit his lip, wishing to be braver. For Tohru. He did just want to wait here. He wanted to crawl under his bed and close his eyes and only move again when there was sunlight again, when Hatori had figured everything out and things could go back to the way they were before.

"Well, I can't do that," Haru said as if he could hear Momiji's thoughts. "I'm going to make sure she's safe."

Momiji didn't realize that his eyes were closed until he heard the scrape of the door opening wider. Then they snapped open only to see Haru's back as he slipped out. With one painful heartbeat, he launched himself after his cousin. Sure, he didn't want to go out there, but being with someone, even if that someone was Haru on a life-threatening mission in the dark, was better than staying by himself in Hatori's house. He didn't dare call out to ask Haru to wait for him, but he moved fast enough and Haru moved slow enough that he almost ran into him in the storm, catching himself just short of knocking them both down. Relieved, he pressed himself into Haru's back, and they moved together like one timid organism, keeping one eye open for the monster and the other open for their friend.

"She'd probably go back to the shed first," Momiji whispered, and he felt Haru nod and shift direction accordingly. They kept close to the buildings when they could, moving stealthily past the open spots, not really knowing for sure what was out there. Momiji and Haru had never actually seen the Cat's True Form, but they had heard about it from the others. Akito especially liked to talk about it at New Year's when he was trying to make a point about his absolute authority or something, but there hadn't been a need to really think much about it. He remembered the words of description for the monster, but he hadn't thought that he could recall them in such vivid detail when he'd never more than paid half attention to them. Kyo was now much taller and faster, with sharp claws and sharper teeth. He could apparently rip through wood and wanted nothing more than to destroy the Juunishi. Haru patted his arm as he began to tremble.

"Look," Haru whispered, just barely loud enough for Momiji to hear. He pulled himself out of his cousin's shadow to see that they were nearly to the shed. The Monster was no where in sight, but there was something in the mud in front of them.

"What is it?" Momiji asked, his voice almost inaudible under the rainfall. "Tohru?"

The huddled, mud-covered shape shuddered and twitched, as if it were trying to get up. After a few moments, it was clear that this was not Tohru, but it was something that had been hurt and needed help.

"It's Master Kazuma," Haru muttered, double checking that they were still alone before pulling Momiji over to their fallen sensei. The young zodiac members flanked him, tugging him up by the arms until he was on his feet again, mostly supported by his students. There was no need to ask him what happened, but it was hard to tell how much damage had been inflicted, since he was mostly covered in mud and soaking wet. He did manage to stay on his feet, but he did put some of his weight on their shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Kazuma said weakly. "It's not safe."

"No safer for you," Haru said dryly, holding him securely around the waist. "We'll take you back to Hatori's."

"But what about Tohru?" Momiji countered, now even more fearful for their friend after seeing what Kyo had been capable of doing the Sohma who had loved him best his whole life.

"We'll have to come back for Tohru. Now come on, let's get out of the open."

Their progress was slow, but mostly because of the care they took in making sure they kept an eye on all angles at once, never allowing themselves to be exposed for an extended period of time. There was no sign of Tohru on the way, but there also was no sound indicating that she had found the Monster, or that the Monster had found her.

Momiji felt more than the weight of Kazuma around him. The entire atmosphere had tensed, pushing down on him as if the rain were made of lead bullets. How could this have gone so horribly wrong in such a short amount of time? This day hadn't started ominously, gloomy sure, but not frightening. And it hadn't even been that bad when he'd spotted Tohru running past his house earlier that evening, though things had taken an odd turn when she didn't know him and that she had so much blood on her. He wished he could ask Kazuma or Hatori what was really going on. Why was Tohru here? What was that little shed on the grounds that he couldn't remember seeing before? Why would Akito's death make Kyo attack his own master? And most importantly, what was it going to take to put things back to normal again?

It seemed as though they had taken one giant breath as they moved the familiar, though now treacherous path, back the way they had come. Kazuma seemed to pull it together as they moved, and he shifted away from the teenagers so they could all slip more easily through the buildings. However, by the time they made it back into Hatori's rooms, all of them breathed in relief and exhaustion.

"What were you thinking?" Kazuma reprimanded as soon as the door had closed securely behind them. "Don't you know what's out there?"

"Tohru," Haru answered calmly, and Momiji bit his lip in worry. She's the one who wasn't thinking properly, even after Hatori told her it wasn't safe, she wouldn't believe that Kyo could ever really hurt her.

"Where is she?" Kazuma asked, not quite as calm as Haru seemed to be.

"She went looking for Kyo."

"No," Kazuma whispered, staring out into the rain again as if he could pull her inside with the weight of his gaze. "But you haven't heard anything?"

"We were looking for her when we found you," Momiji said. Kazuma ran his hands down his arms, peering at the door, willing her to come in.

"I guess I have no choice," Kyo's master concluded, shaking his hands as if in preparation for a martial arts match. "I'll have to go look for her myself."

"But you're hurt!" Momiji protested, torn between not wanting anyone to go back outside into uncertainty but wanting Tohru to be protected.

"You can't go out now anyway," Haru said quietly, staring through the slats of the shade at Hatori's window. "Kyo's right outside."


	14. Isn't Anyone Trying to Find Me?

**Chapter Fourteen: Isn't Anyone Trying to Find Me?**

"Shigure?" Yuki spoke the first word to sound in the room since Shigure had talked with Haru on the phone. The dog lifted his head, pulled from a guilty trance, where he had sat overwhelmed for who knew how many minutes. Akito's body was long gone, taken to the morgue section of the hospital as if he were just another guy, just another nobody. Shigure hadn't meant to wait here for Yuki, but seeing the teenager silhouetted against the brightness of the hallway made him remember what was going on. "Where's Akito?"

Shigure shook his head, looking down at his hands clenched together in his lap. "Gone," he said simply.

"Ha, funny," Yuki replied, but there was fear behind the annoyed tone. "I was kind of in the middle of something important, you know. I can't come rushing to his whim all the time, and this is a really poor way of getting my attention."

Shigure lifted an eyebrow, trying not to be angry at the rat for his arrogant ignorance. It wasn't the first time that Akito had feigned illness or even inflicted real injury just to straighten out Yuki's priorities. He knew that even if Yuki would not acknowledge him in the way that he wanted, he could always bring him back under the conditions of the curse.

"I hope he didn't do anything so stupid that he'll have to bother Hatori for months like last time," Yuki continued, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the doorframe. Last time, Shigure thought through the pounding of his head, the echo that kept telling him Akito was dead over and over, making it hard to concentrate. What had it been last time? Oh, right, the bottle of pills. Yuki had been summoned, and Hatori had been so furious with him that he'd made him stay with Akito all through the night while his body forced all poison and liquid charcoal from his system. For some reason, Akito's attempts to get Yuki's compassion were so common that Shigure had forgotten all about it. Of course Yuki would think this was just another childish tantrum, another method for Akito to get the attention he craved.

"So what was it?" Yuki demanded, his mouth forming a tight line. "He's never managed to get himself a hospital stay before."

Shigure didn't know he had stood up until he was looking down into Yuki's confused face. He wanted to pull the rat to him, to feel his heart beating strong against his own, to know that there was still hope right here, but he just took Yuki by the shoulders and stared at him, hoping to convey all that had happened simply by looking.

Yuki shook him off, taking a step backward. "Are you going to tell me what happened or did I come all this way for nothing? Again?"

"Excuse me?" The voice behind Yuki pivoted him around quickly, bringing his arm up automatically in defense as if expecting Akito to be behind him ready to strike. A young RN brandished a plastic bag in tight fists, her clipboard falling to the floor with a sharp clatter, her eyes startled at Yuki's abrupt motion.

"I'm sorry," she apologized breathlessly. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you."

Yuki bent immediately to retrieve the clipboard, giving it a glance before handing it back. "I'm sorry too," he said softly, then moved to the side, knowing that she wasn't here to speak with him.

"I just need you to sign this," she went on, handing the clipboard to Shigure. "It's a standard release form saying that you've received all of your relative's effects." She held up the bag again, which Yuki reached for, confused. While Shigure signed and dated the form, Yuki pawed through the bag, pulling out what remained of Akito's clothes and the bloody towels that had covered him during the ambulance ride. The bag slipped out of his hands and onto the floor, and this time it was the nurse who leaned over to pick it up. She exchanged the bag for the clipboard with Shigure, giving Yuki a sympathetic look.

"Where is he?" Yuki whispered, looking first to Shigure and then turning his attention to the RN. He pointed to the bag, his hands and voice both shaking. "What happened?"

"I'm truly very sorry," the young woman apologized again, reaching under the release form for a pamphlet. "If you feel the need, the hospital does provide grieving counseling. The card is enclosed and services are free of charge. Please take your time."

"Is there anything else that you need?" Shigure questioned, keeping one eye on Yuki. "If not, there are some things at home that we need to take care of."

"Of course, you can leave whenever you're ready."

"Thank you," Shigure said, pulling his arm on Yuki's shoulder and steering him toward the exit. The nurse nodded pleasantly and then scurried off with her clipboard. Yuki watched her until it was physically impossible to keep his neck twisted in that direction.

"Did you drive here?" Shigure asked, still walking briskly, regaining his momentum now that Yuki was here.

"Um, yeah," Yuki answered, beginning to walk at Shigure's side rather than being dragged by his cousin. "Shigure, what's going on?"

"Let's get in the car first. We need to get to the Main House."

Hatori moved slowly through the inner Sohma compound, the black box held securely under his arm. All his senses were tensed to detect anything out of the ordinary, his ears ringing under the strain of trying to hear a low growl over the rain's steady cadence. He hated being this afraid, hated that it had come to this point. Hated that he couldn't have done more to prevent this. But he couldn't afford to dwell too much on his failures or trying to pinpoint exactly where he should have made a different choice; he had to pay too much attention to his surroundings. He could still save his family, at least most of it, but he couldn't do that if the Monster killed him before he could meet up with Yuki and string a new set of beads.

His thoughts strayed briefly to Kazuma. Should he go to the shed to see what happened there? Was he prepared for what he might find? He was a doctor, and due to the nature of his position in the zodiac, he had done his fair share of first aid; however, this was not something he was familiar with. He didn't deal with bodies. He'd never been forced to determine if someone were still worth saving. He'd never been put in this position where he had to choose whether to see if one man were still alive or keep to his original plan.

In the end, he kept to his first course. If Kazuma were dead, then in all cold honesty, he'd still be dead after this was all over. And if he were injured, Hatori didn't think he had the time to help him. The longer he waited to begin the ceremony, the more possibility for injuries, for fatalities. This was triage; this was how he had to think to make sure that as many people as possible survived this incident. Kazuma had made a choice too, and he knew full well the consequences. He would have to wait for Hatori a little longer.

He felt a small sigh of relief escape him as he collected himself against the last building before his own house. It was so close now. He was going to make it after all without even catching sight of the Monster. For a second, a chilling image struck him of what might be keeping it busy, thinking again of Kazuma and the sacrifice he'd made in going to the shed. And even though the thought was dismal, he still felt grateful for any distraction that would allow him to make it back safely. He checked the box, held so tightly that his arm was almost numb and he couldn't even feel if he had it anymore. It was still there, safe, intact.

"Kyo!" The call electrified Hatori's senses, almost bringing him to his knees in pure tingling fright. He kept tight hold of his box, but his head jerked upright to peer into the darkness. What in the world? He could see his door, welcoming and safe, but soon other objects became clear in the storm. Hatori forced his breathing to remain steady, hoping momentarily that what he was seeing was some worst case scenario his panicked imagination was throwing out in mirage. Some trick of the darkness and shifting raindrops.

No. There was his door, right there across the last open court. There were thirteen stepping stones from his porch to the house where he stood pinned to the wall. Thirteen stepping stones set in a gravel path, surrounded by wet, finely groomed grass. To his right, he finally caught sight of the Monster, the Cat's True Form, pacing along the lawn, its reptilian head methodically twisting this way and that, searching for movement. Then to Hatori's left, he could barely make out the other form, moving ignorantly in the open, the source of the sound that had stopped his heart a moment ago.

"Tohru," Haru said from his still position peering between the window slats.

"What did you say?" Kazuma questioned in a soft hiss, needing this to be a mistake. He felt adrenaline pump through his heart in a hot rush, and he stepped to the window himself to confirm that their situation couldn't get any worse. But there was Tohru, walking timidly, soaking wet, her arms wrapped around her to preserve her body heat.

"He'll see her," Haru predicted, keeping his eyes glued to the scene in front of him. "What do we do?"

But Kazuma was already moving, checking Hatori's medical shelves, searching frantically for a vial, praying that his friend's organizational methods would help him locate what he needed in time. He may have been strong enough to prevent his own throat being torn out, but he knew that Tohru wasn't, that she wouldn't even try to defend herself. If he wanted to save her, he may not even have time to act on his hurried plan.

Just as he was about to give up on his thought, the small dark brown bottle with the green-capped barrier labeled Midazolam caught his attention. Hatori used it for Akito on rare occasions when he was having trouble sleeping or to calm him when his fits of aggression got out of control. Kazuma ripped it from the shelf with one hand while pulling open a drawer with the other.

"What's going on out there, Haru?" Kazuma questioned heatedly as he filled a syringe with as much sedative as it would hold. Ten ccs was enough to put out Akito or any other grown man. This particular syringe went up to fifty.

"He's just looking at her," Haru said, bewildered. "No wait!"

But Kazuma knew that he couldn't wait, not even one more second. Without capping his needle, he flew to the front door, sprinting out again as fast as he could, racing the Monster to Tohru so he could try and save her life.

"Kyo!" Tohru called, her voice so loud in the rainy darkness. "Where are you?"

She didn't know how long she'd been walking, and she couldn't really tell where she had been going. At first, she meant to go back to the shed, but the dark, the rain, and her general lack of knowledge of the compound had made that impossible. Now nothing looked familiar, and she was starting to feel the cold and the wet and the beginning of hopelessness. Where was Kyo? Why wouldn't he answer her?

It was hard to concentrate, since every step seemed to be taken through double vision. Her mind kept returning to another time when she had walked through rain and dark, searching for the same boy in the same form. Then she had been terrified of him, but now she was more terrified of losing him. Whatever happened, that was not an acceptable outcome. No, she'd done it once. She'd carried him back from the edge of his fear, and she knew she could do it again. If she could just find him.

She caught sight of him a few seconds later, his body steaming in the mist. She had fragments of memory of the last time she'd seen him in this form, but that didn't prepare her for the twisted mutilation that turned its oddly serpentine head toward her. Fear tightened her throat, but she consoled herself by repeating that it was only Kyo. He just looked different, but it was still him.

"Tohru, get back!" She heard Hatori dimly, but she wasn't going to listen to him. All he had done since she'd come here was try and take Kyo away from her. She wasn't going to allow it anymore. They hadn't meant to stab Akito. It wasn't his fault that the family was cursed. It wasn't fair for him to be punished any more than he had been already. "Tohru, run, now!"

Tohru ignored the dragon, keeping her eyes fixed on Kyo. He was coming for her now, picking up pace as he neared her. He was so intimidating this way, running full speed, kicking up clumps of mud into the darkness behind him. Tohru put her hands out soothingly in front of her, hoping he wouldn't collide right into her and take them both to the ground. "It's going to be all right, Kyo," she said, surprised at how her voice trembled. It's just Kyo, she told herself again. There's nothing to be afraid of.

He didn't slow as he raced to where she stood, but he did bare his teeth. Tohru's eyes widened at the sight. What was he doing? "Kyo, slow down," she commanded, not wanting to tell him how much he was scaring her. She tightened the muscles in her legs, thinking that she should run, but by the time she'd decided to really do it, she was too late. Kyo took a leap, fully closing the distance between them, snarling hot, rancid breath into her face. She gagged at the overwhelming scent, trying to choke out a question. One large clawed hand pushed her to the ground, pressed her into the mud. Shouts of alarm sounded on both sides of them, barely heard through the overwhelming weight of Kyo's presence above her. Kyo made a sound in his throat, a deep, almost gurgling noise, shivering and terrifying. Tohru looked into his reptilian eyes, waiting for something like recognition to pass through them. Kyo opened his mouth, his sharp teeth dripping.

"No!" More than one voice screamed the denial. A dark shape slammed into Kyo from the side, pushing him off her. His claws slashed her torso as he rolled away. Hatori grabbed her hands then, pulling her up and running before she was really ready to do anything but recover from what she'd just seen.

"Open the door!" Hatori shouted as they raced ahead, tugging Tohru along with him. She could hear Kyo grunt, pictured him shaking his head and standing up, pictured him getting ready to rush them again. She didn't struggle against Hatori's rough grip, but she did turn her head to see where he was. Kazuma was there too. He had knocked Kyo away from her, and now he clung to Kyo with one arm tightened fiercely around his long neck. Kyo shook and reached behind to pull his master off, but even his ill-proportioned arms wouldn't bend in that direction enough to effectively remove him. Kazuma's clenched fist rose upward, then plunged into Kyo's shoulder. Kyo screamed and redoubled his efforts to detach Kazuma.

"Run, Tohru," Hatori shouted at her, "Don't look back." Distressed, Tohru shifted her attention ahead of her, turning away from the disturbing scene.

A door opened in front of Tohru, and she barely made it inside before collapsing to her knees. Her arms automatically wrapped around her body, and she felt both the cold wet of the rain on her clothes, and more warm stickiness of blood from the newest slashes across her chest. What had just happened? Had Kyo really just tried to . . . to kill her? Her thoughts sped backward to that moment when he had locked eyes with her, when there had been nothing in them but dead animal brutality. She stared at the tears in her shirt, watching her shaking hands finger the fabric.

"Tohru!" Momiji yelped, rushing toward her and putting his hands on her back. Hatori closed the door behind them. He then hurried to the window to see the outcome of Kazuma's fight with the Monster, though he didn't particularly want to watch his friend murdered, he also couldn't look away.

Yet the scene surprised him. Kazuma had successfully remained on Kyo's back, and it seemed that he was slowing down. As Hatori watched, the Monster went down on its knees, then toppled over completely. He twitched a few times, but then settled, completely motionless. It was only then that Kazuma slipped from its back, not wasting any time to rush to Hatori's and safety.

"That was risky," Hatori chastised even as he let Kazuma in, feeling a deep gratitude that Kazuma had apparently survived more than one encounter with the Monster. He locked the door behind him, though he knew that if Kyo wanted to, he could easily break it down. It would be best to relocate, now while they had a chance. "What did you use?"

"That," Kazuma said shakily, gesturing toward Hatori's medicine cabinet. Hatori glanced, registering the bottle of sedative sitting out on his spotless counter, surrounded by scattered syringes.

"How much?" He asked, trying to guess how much time Kazuma had bought them.

"A full needle," Kazuma answered, still breathing hard, looking as though he too would topple over.

"That's 250 milligrams," Hatori squeaked, calculating what that might do.

"So how long will that give us?"

"I don't know," Hatori answered honestly. He'd never sedated a vengeful spirit before. "If it'd been just Kyo, a dose that high would put him in a coma or worse."

A small moan broke into their conversation, and Hatori turned just in time to see Tohru throw up into the trashcan at the side of his desk.

"Can you help me?" Hatori asked Kazuma, the only person in the room capable of lifting Tohru without turning into something. He received a nod in reply before the martial arts master went to her side, gently picking her up from the floor and cradling her against him.

"Let's set her here, where there's light enough to see," Hatori instructed. "Momiji, can you get some water and bandages for us, please?"

"Sure," he replied, moving as he was asked, his eyes huge and concerned. Haru's cell phone buzzed, and he stepped away from the commotion to answer it. Hatori turned his attention to Tohru, sitting dazed on his examination table for the second time that night.

"Hatori?" Kazuma asked as he straightened from setting Tohru down. "Do you have anything like a restraint?"

"What?" Hatori asked, half listening.

"I was thinking it would be a good idea to see if we can restrain it while it's out. Some rope, anything I could use to tie it up. I'd move it to the neko room and lock it in, but I think it's too heavy for me to drag that far, even with Haru's help, which isn't something I want to risk anyway. It may wake up before we get there."

"You think that rope is going to hold him?" Hatori asked incredulously.

"Something," Kazuma said again, hopelessly. Hatori sighed, thinking of anything he might have that could possibly be strong enough to hold.

"Akito kept some rope in the chest in that little room off his chambers," he finally said. "The one he used to keep Yuki in. It's not locked."

"Lock the door behind me," Kazuma cautioned, already moving in that direction.

"Be careful," Hatori said, nodding after him, grateful that he was once again stepping up to put a barrier between them and the monstrosity outside.

"Yuki's coming," Haru said helpfully, rejoining the group just as Momiji relocked the door.

"You talked to him?" Hatori asked, hopeful. They would need Yuki as soon as they could get him. He may even return before the Monster woke up.

"No, I just spoke with his girlfriend. She said they were on their way from Hinoi and asked where Yuki should meet us."

Hatori worried about this for a second. Yuki had a girlfriend? He was bringing her home with him? "He does know that Akito is dead?" He asked.

"Yeah," Haru confirmed. "I sent him a text." Hatori decided he had bigger problems right now than to keep dwelling on Yuki. At least he was coming. That was a little progress. He hoped Kazuma would be all right. He felt horrible about depending on him so much, especially since he wasn't even a part of the Juunishi. Another wave of pressing guilt stopped his motion momentarily. He wasn't a part of the Juunishi, but the way things were going, he probably would be before dawn.

"Why?" Tohru's question was small, but it did stop all other talking. Hatori turned his attention back to her. She had dark circles under her eyes now, and she looked at Hatori listlessly, the way she had often looked at him before Kyo had come to stay with her.

"Why what, Tohru?" Hatori asked gently, easing her into a lying position on his examination table.

"He didn't know me," she said, hauntingly. Hatori paused in answering. He thought she understood. He cut her shirt off her, leaving her bra, and exposing three long gashes across her stomach and chest. Scratches only, not much worse than the wound he'd already stitched up. As he pulled the light over to start cleaning them, her self-inflicted scars covering her midsection and arms shone white.

"Tohru," Momiji said, sorrowfully, and Hatori could tell he was about to ask about the scars.

"Not right now," he said, sharply. He didn't want to go into it right now. "Why don't you bring me a clean shirt from my closet?" Tohru stared at the ceiling, not protesting anything that was done to her, just waiting patiently for her answer. Her eyes were lifeless, unfocused. With Haru's help, for the second time that night, he stopped the bleeding and cleaned the worst of it away. He was just finishing wrapping her in more bandages when she gently took hold of his wrist and repeated her question.

"Why didn't he know me, Hatori?" She asked again, her voice intense though her eyes were dead. Hatori sighed, kneeling on the floor in front of her.

"Tohru, I need you to listen very carefully."

"Let me get this straight," Yuki said slowly, most of his concentration on the rainy road ahead of him. Without the benefit of an ambulance siren, the drive back to the Main House was much slower than the one to the hospital, even though at the time it had seemed to take a short eternity. "Akito dying means that Kyo's beads are destroyed and he's trapped in the Original Form at the Main House – not in America."

"Right," Shigure confirmed. "Why would he be in America?" Why indeed? Yuki thought, giving his head a slight shake. He knew that letter had been a fake, but now that he knew where Kyo was, it did give him a chill to wonder where Tohru had really been all this time.

"I heard a rumor," Yuki said before continuing, deciding to take things one at a time. "Only he's not Kyo anymore. He's some crazy, mindless killing machine who wants nothing better than to murder all the Juunishi?"

"Yes," Shigure said again, then adding, "though it's not really specific to the Juunishi. It will kill whatever is in front of it."

"And we're driving to meet this thing why?"

"Because it's the Rat's place to stop it by creating a new bond. We'll string new beads, then we'll take some of your blood and some blood of whoever is chosen to be the new Cat, mix it, and paint the beads. Then once the bond is solid with the new Cat, he will kill the Monster and everything will go back to the way it was. Your part in the ceremony actually hasn't changed at all."

Yuki thought about this. Akito had made hints of this, giving out details once in a while when he wanted to scare Yuki about his future. He knew that the strain of keeping this bond intact would be painful and exhausting, that it would reduce his lifespan. That was his fate, but apparently there was a worse one.

"And Kyo," Yuki heard himself ask, surprised that he was even thinking about this. "What happens to him?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shigure rub his face in his hands.

"Kyo's already gone," the dog said. "Killing the Monster is the same as killing Kyo. There's no way to bring him back now."

"Did Kyo know this?"

"Yes, Hatori explained it to him."

"And he still stabbed Akito to death?" That didn't make sense. Kyo might be stupid, but he wasn't that stupid.

"I'm still not sure what happened to Akito. It's not important now anyway. We just need to make sure that no one else has to suffer for this."

"Do we have to kill him?" Yuki questioned. "Couldn't we take some of his blood and make new beads? Or lock him up until he dies naturally?"

"It doesn't work that way," Shigure explained, watching the road ahead as if that would make the Sohma house appear faster. "What you're talking about is like trying to build a prison around an earthquake. It won't hold. It's been tried before. The bond has to be made first in order to trap the spirit again and keep it under control. Even that, I'm sure you know, takes a massive amount of energy. One person can't do it alone. The ceremony is very specific; it has to be done a certain way and we don't have a lot of time to wait."

"What do you mean?" Yuki asked, thinking Shigure meant more than just what Kyo might do while unconfined.

"Kyo's physical body isn't made to support that form for long. Even though he's very strong and fast right now, it won't last for more than a day."

"And you sound like something bad happens after that."

"The original spirit and the original cat had a deal – the onryou would punish the Juunishi in exchange for using the cat's body. The cat had to give permission for that. If Kyo's body fails and the spirit is released, it's like poison, spreading like disease."

"Has that ever happened before?"

"Not that I know. I don't think so because there is no record of what to do if that happens. The bond breaking is a rare thing, and I'm sure our ancestors always went through with another bonding ceremony as quickly as they could to prevent as much damage as possible."

Yuki pondered then, feeling uncomfortable. Each scenario Shigure had just gone through with him was so awful. Why were there such high stakes? Why did there have to be so much suffering? Growing up, there had been several times that Yuki wished Akito were gone, but he hadn't meant anything like this, and as much as he said he hated Kyo, he wasn't all that ready to murder him either.

"Are you sure there's no way to get Kyo back?" He asked softly, trying to remember the last time he'd even seen his cousin. It had been months ago, when they had spoken about Tohru, about how Kyo had found her on a bridge late at night. Yuki didn't even think he had said thank you to him for giving the information he wanted.

"I wish there were," Shigure confessed as the Sohma compound finally came into view.

Yuki parked his car outside the Main Gate, meeting up with Shigure outside. He had always known that there would be a day like this; he had even known that it was coming up soon. But it should have been easier. Akito, Kyo, and he would all be together in one room. Once the bond had been transferred from Akito, he wouldn't be the Rat anymore, which would usually trigger labor in the next expecting Sohma mother. This time around, that person was Hiro's mom, and they had been waiting until she reached at least seven months before conducting the ceremony. That would have been just an easy week or so away. What had Akito been thinking? Why couldn't he have waited just that long?

"Can you call Hatori?" Shigure asked as they moved toward the inner gates. "I want to know what's going on in there before we just stroll in." Yuki automatically reached into his coat pocket only to come up with nothing. He searched the other one, then his pants, before stopping completely on the path to look in all of those places all over again. He thought back to when he'd last seen it. That had been so long ago, when he had received a text message from Haru telling him to go to the hospital, telling him that Akito was seriously hurt. He had read the text, and then . . . then Miki had taken his phone to read it too.

"I don't have my phone," he groaned softly, realizing that he'd never taken it back from her.

"Well that's unfortunate," Shigure muttered, leaning against the gate as if that might help him figure out what was going on inside the walls.

"You could get your own," Yuki retorted, beginning to feel the intensity of the situation fraying at his nerves. Shigure had the audacity to let a smile fleet across his lips before closing down his expression into concentration again. Shigure was much too old-fashioned to ever get a phone. Not only that, it would make him too accessible to his editor.

"Yuki?" The voice whisper / sighed the rat's name from the inside of the compound, so close to Shigure's ear that the dog leapt away from it.

"Haru?" Yuki whispered back and suddenly the main gate was opening just enough to admit them inside.

"Come on. Hatori's waiting for you," Haru instructed, beckoning them in and hurriedly closing the gate behind them.

"Where is It?" Shigure asked, turning his head frantically, searching in vain through the heavy mist and raindrops. "What are you doing outside?"

"We've relocated to Akito's room. It's the most secure," Haru answered absently, beginning to walk. "I was waiting so I could bring you straight there." Shigure grabbed his coat, halting him, still peering about anxiously.

"No, I mean where is It?" He asked again, and Yuki felt suddenly chilled. Haru turned to look at them, then pointed vaguely in the direction of Hatori's house.

"Over there. Kazuma's watching him." With that, he started forward again, leaving Yuki and Shigure no choice but to follow.

"What do you mean, Kazuma's watching him?" Shigure demanded, his voice pressing. 

"He's sedated. Hatori isn't sure for how long."

"Yuki, come on," Shigure ordered, pulling on his sleeve. Yuki hadn't noticed that he had stopped walking, staring in the direction of Hatori's house. Shigured called Kyo an It, like he really was gone, like there really was no hope of ever seeing him again. The idea made Yuki feel tremendously uncomfortable. This was all wrong. The houses, once so familiar, all looked foreign and lopsided in the rainy dark. The heaviness of the atmosphere pushed against his chest and throat.

Akito's residence was not far from Hatori's, but the path from the Main Gate did not allow Yuki to see Kazuma standing guard over the monster. He didn't really want to see it; he could remember very well how it looked, how it smelled, how sharp the claws were and how Kyo had dug them into his shoulder the last time he'd had a confrontation with him in that form. But he had been Kyo then. He didn't speak, but the way he'd tried to run, the way he'd struck out had all been unmistakably Kyo. If what Shigure said was true, that part that Yuki knew best was gone. Thinking that made it hard to walk, and Shigure had to continue his tugging on Yuki's sleeve to keep him moving in the right direction.

It was especially difficult to pass over the threshold into Akito's room, the one place in the Sohma compound that didn't seem too much changed. The lights still seemed too dim. The walls too tight. The worst part was knowing that even if everything worked exactly the way it should tonight, this space would now belong to him.

"Yuki, good," Hatori said when at last Shigure successfully dragged him inside. He left him standing alone to hurry to the dragon, speaking quickly in soft voices. A candle sat lit on the floor beside a black bag, a bowl, and a knife. All these articles looked old and cruelly ritualistic, something from a pagan cult ceremony of nightmare. Yuki folded his arms across his stomach, trying to hold the last of his warmth as closely as he could.

"I'll go get him," Shigure said, becoming audible again and moving past Yuki, back into the rain. Yuki lifted his head to see him go, then looked back to see Hatori gesturing for him to kneel beside the candle. And even though he knew that this was the end he'd been told of his whole life, and even though he'd tried to explain it to Miki just hours ago, and even though he knew that they did have to hurry before they had a whole new wave of catastrophe, he found himself breaking eye contact with his cousin almost as soon as he'd joined it.

That's when he noticed that Hatori had not been waiting alone. Haru had slipped off to a dark corner where he now huddled in a circle with Momiji and a figure that seemed vaguely familiar to Yuki, even though he couldn't quite place who it was that knelt between the ones whose faces he knew so well. At first he assumed that it was Kagura who sat there with her face in her hands, and of course it would make sense for her to be devastated more than others at the events of the evening. She wore a shirt too big for her, keeping her hands pressed over her eyes, shaking her head as Haru whispered to her. But it wasn't quite right somehow. He did know her, of that he was sure, but he didn't think that it was his cousin.

Unconsciously, he took a step closer, as if that would help him identify the girl. His motion caused Haru to turn towards him, and finally the hands dropped from veiled blue eyes. Yuki's first response was to take that step backward again, but then he hurried forward.

"Tohru," he said reverently, hearing Hatori sigh somewhere behind him as he went down on his knees in front of her. Of all the people he expected to be here this night, she was nowhere on the list, and yet, he wasn't too shocked that she was here. What did shock him was how battered she looked with scratches trailing both cheeks, a bandage winding from her wrist up under the sleeve of the borrowed shirt, dirt and blood soaking her pajama pants in streaks and pools, and a deadness to her expression that made him want to weep.

She stared at him, but there was nothing in her eyes indicating that she knew who he was, that anyone had even said her name. The weight of her gaze crushed Yuki's soul straight to the ground, overwhelming him with shame. This was all his fault.

He took her hand in both of his. "I am so sorry," he said, finally putting the apology into words where she could actually hear. Her eyes looked at where her hand disappeared in his grasp for a moment before returning to his face. She stared at him lifelessly, from under her eyelids, giving no indication that he was forgiven. "So, so sorry," Yuki said again, waiting for the words to release the tight pain the guilt was causing. "Tohru?" Her name had a pleading tone to it. Even if she screamed at him it would be better than this. This was almost the same as speaking to her memory.

"Yuki," Tohru finally spoke, her voice soft but firm. It spiked through him as if he were made of glass. Her expression had not changed; there was still no warmth in her eyes. But at least she had acknowledged that she still knew him, at least his name.

"Fix it," were her next words, very clear. He felt tears prick the corners of his eyes. Of course. Of course it wasn't enough just to apologize. That didn't change anything for her to know that he was sorry for what had happened. It hadn't stopped anything from happening. It hadn't taken the bandage off her arm or sparked life into her eyes. It wasn't enough for him to be sorry. He would have to try much harder, and do much better, than that.

"Don't let them kill him," Tohru completed her plea, the fingers of her free hand digging into the bandage on her arm. Yuki shot a glance behind him at Hatori, who beckoned again for him to come. How he wished he could promise her that everything would be fine. That everything could go back to the way it was. That he would indeed fix it. But he had promised her something before, and he hadn't been able to keep it. It wouldn't be right for him to try again, especially now, especially knowing what he did about Kyo, about the curse, about his position and responsibility.

Tohru's final words weren't directed at Yuki anymore. She spoke to the floor, to the universe, to whatever power that might be listening. Her fingers tightened into claws on her arm. "Don't take him away from me," she begged, her voice raw and low. Yuki took her other hand, pulling it away from her arm, noticing in distress where her fingers had left bloody prints on the shirt. He bit his lip, searching behind him for Hatori, putting his question into his eyes so he wouldn't have to ask out loud.

The dragon shook his head sorrowfully in answer, confirming what Yuki dreaded was true. Don't you dare make her any promises, Yuki. Even if you do your best, give everything that is yours to give, it won't be enough to give her what she wants most. The best you can do is save our lives.

Yuki bent his head over Tohru's hand, still clutched tightly in his. Shouldn't that be worthwhile? What kind of wretched circumstance meant that saving lives wasn't good enough? Because you aren't saving everyone's life, Yuki reminded himself. No matter what happens, someone is going to die. No, not just someone. Kyo. And from the way everyone keeps talking about him, he's already dead.

"What do we do, Hatori?" Yuki asked, squeezing Tohru's hand. "How does this work?"

"I'll need some of your blood," Hatori began. "And some of a volunteer outside of the zodiac." Tohru shifted at the words, moving as if she would stand up. Yuki kept tight hold of her, and even Haru and Momiji quickly flanked her to keep her on the floor. "That's out of the question, Tohru," Hatori amended his statement. Yuki sighed in relief. He knew that Tohru often wished she could share in the Sohma curse, that she could bear some of the burden, as if that would help lessen it for the others, as if that would make things easier to endure. Of course she would want to offer herself as a sacrifice. It was something she'd always done. Not this time. This time Yuki was going to accept the responsibility, the consequences. He wasn't going to cause her any more suffering.

"But Kyo," Tohru insisted, softly. "I told him we would stay together."

The door opened while Yuki was still pondering exactly what he wanted to say, admitting Shigure and Kazuma. Yuki was surprised at how disheveled his master appeared. His normal dark robe torn and filthy, his face and hands streaked with mud and possibly gore. It was impossible to tell exactly what covered him.

"Is It still out?" Hatori asked fearfully.

"Not a single movement," Kazuma reported in a stoic tone. This was obviously difficult for Kazuma, Kyo's surrogate father. Tohru wouldn't be the only one missing Kyo after this was over. Kazuma would be strongly affected as well. And if he were being honest with himself, Yuki knew that the pain in his chest wasn't all because of what the cat's absence would do to his friends. "But we'd better hurry," Kazuma warned, "While the opportunity is here."

Hatori nodded solemnly, folding his arms. For all the feeling of emergency that had pulled Yuki into Akito's rooms, now it seemed still, a held breath, as if everyone were waiting for a stray thought, a half-considered suggestion, a wild notion, something that would change the plan, render it unnecessary. Now that everything was in position to start, they all seemed suspended for the chance that they wouldn't have to.

"Kazuma," Hatori finally spoke, his words slow and hesitant. "You've already done so much, I hate to ask –"

"There's no need," Kazuma interrupted, holding up a hand. "Tell me what to do."

"Thank you," Hatori sighed, and Yuki realized what Kazuma had just agreed to. He would be the volunteer. He would take Kyo's place as the guardian of the cat spirit, as the prison of the monster. They would be bonded together. He wanted to protest. Kazuma shouldn't have to do this! And yet, someone had to. No matter what, someone had to. They were out of time and out of choices.

He wanted to tell Tohru that it would be all right, but he found he couldn't really say anything else to her that would sound encouraging. It wouldn't be all right because it wouldn't be the same. He kissed her hand tenderly upon rising, but then he had nothing else he could do but release her and move to kneel obediently in the place Hatori indicated.

They arranged themselves in a triangle around the candle and bowl, Yuki and Kazuma across from each other with Hatori acting as a bridge between them. Silence settled into the room the same way that darkness does, quick and heavy. Soon Yuki became acutely aware of his heartbeat, of the smallest wavering of the flame, the shadows cast by Hatori's hands as he slowly beaded new bone fragments on the bracelet that would soon adorn Kazuma's wrist, never to come off for the rest of his life.

As he worked, Hatori explained the history of the zodiac, using words that were plainly not his own. He spoke of the original cat and rat, how a prank had escalated into dangerous revenge, how the Sohma family had become involved as guardians, how the bond was first created as protection, how the responsibility of the rat was to preserve the bond, to place a secure wall between the zodiac and the evil that hunted it.

With the beads secure, Hatori draped the new, white bracelet on a little peg that Yuki hadn't noticed before on the candlestick. He then reached out to Yuki, who timidly reached back. Hatori took his wrist in his hand, pulling Yuki's arm straight before baring it to the elbow. Apparently this was the part where his blood would be collected in the black bowl.

Although all the dragon's movements were careful, it still seemed to Yuki that the short knife was brought to his skin terribly fast. He felt his muscles tense without any conscious decision of his, and then felt Hatori tense in return, gripping his wrist tighter as if frightened Yuki would pull free and bolt. The ceremony paused as dragon and rat looked at each other. Hatori's eyes were focused, stern, but not uncaring. The message was clear. The ceremony was underway; there would be no turning back. Yuki forced himself to relax. It wasn't like he was unused to pain, particularly in this room.

Hatori carefully placed the knife tip against the top of Yuki's hand, right below his middle knuckle. Yuki felt the cold pressure and swallowed hard, but before he could even really dread what was coming, Hatori made his cut, professionally and cleanly, down Yuki's arm, a little past his wrist. Then with another practiced movement, he tipped Yuki's hand so that a stream of warm, sticky blood ran straight down his finger, dripping swiftly into the bowl. Yuki was surprised that the burning sensation of the cut was actually quite tame to the agony of emotion that already burned inside him. The physical hurt was so minor when compared to the guilt and shame and regret of why this had become necessary. He almost wished he could do the cut over so that it would better reflect his inner turmoil. But then he reminded himself of the pain that hadn't happened yet, when the burden of the bond finally became his.

For a short while, all the occupants of the room watched the blood fill the bowl, all eyes intently focused. They were all so still that when the scream came from outside, everyone startled into motion at once. Hatori dashed forward to grab both Yuki's hand and the bowl before he knocked it completely over. Momiji and Haru dashed to the door while Shigure went to the window, peering intently into the rain. A bolt of fear raced through the room, leaving them all panting and shaken.

With precise motions, Hatori wrapped Yuki's cut, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds as if he expected Kyo to come tearing through the wall. "Keep pressure on this," he instructed flatly.

"We should have given another sedation dose while he was still out," Shigure mentioned from his crouched position at the window.

"We didn't know what the amount I gave him would do," Kazuma argued softly, having lifted himself to one knee. "We couldn't take the chance."

"It will be fine," Hatori assured, and he even sounded half convinced about it. "We'll be through with this soon."

"It will just be harder now," Shigure sighed, saying out loud the obvious. Kyo was awake and hunting again. Yuki felt cold and cradled his arm closer to his chest. His part, at least, was finished. Kazuma would be the one to take the short knife outside, to use it to kill Kyo.

"Tohru, I need that, please," Hatori said quietly, pulling Yuki's attention from Shigure, from contemplating what was outside and moving in the rain. In the commotion, Tohru had also moved from her place in the corner and taken up the knife from where it rested on the floor.

"No," she said, just as quietly, but surprisingly more forceful. Hatori reached towards her.

"I'm very sorry, Tohru, but this is how it has to work. There is no other way. Now give me the knife." Tohru didn't even look at the dragon, but she did look at Yuki with accusation in her gaze. But what was he supposed to do? Hatori was right; this was the only way to deal with the situation before more people got hurt. It was too late for Kyo. Hadn't she just heard him scream? Didn't she understand what was going on? "Don't make me take it from you, Tohru, please," Hatori pleaded gently, but Yuki knew that in this case, the dragon wouldn't wait too long for her to move on her own before making good on his words.

"I made a promise," she said again, and before anyone could move to take the knife from her by force, she used it on herself, tearing through the white shirt, through the white bandage, and ripping open a wound already stitched closed down her arm. Blood ran immediately from the cut, and Tohru dripped it quickly into the black bowl. Seeing her bleeding allowed Yuki to move, snatching the knife away from her as he should have before she'd ever thought to use it.

The larger blood flow filled the bowl much faster than Yuki's slow slit, providing enough for the ceremony before Hatori could even get to her side with a fresh bandage. At first, Yuki was horrified. What was she thinking? She wasn't supposed to be the one involved. He was trying to keep her safe from this; didn't she get that?

"Momiji," Hatori snapped, keeping firm pressure on Tohru's arm, "Come clean the bowl. We're going to have to start over." It took a minute to process his words. Of course, the bond wouldn't be created until the beads had been covered in the combined blood. Right now, it wasn't anything more than a mess in a bowl. Yuki breathed again, relieved that Tohru's rash act wouldn't result in any permanent consequences.

Obediently, Momiji came forward to take the bowl, his hands shaking and even spilling some of the contents as he lifted it up while Hatori kept his attention on the reopened cut. The dragon looked furious at the interruption, impatient that Tohru didn't understand what was going on, that she was insistent that she could fix it or stop it or find another way. Sometimes, like this time, there just wasn't another way.

"Shigure, could you come hold her?" Hatori beckoned and Shigure hurried to their side. "Keep pressure on this to stop the bleeding."

Haru's cell phone rang, which made everyone startle all over again. "Yeah?" He said into the receiver as Hatori shifted positions with Shigure and Momiji straightened from the floor with the ceremonial bowl.

"What do you mean, you're here?" Haru asked, his voice rising in pitch. The intensity of his tone made everyone freeze. Yuki stared at his cousin, pondering who could possibly be calling this late and creating such a reaction. "Which gates?"

"You didn't lock the gates?" Hatori hissed at Shigure.

"I don't remember," Shigure said quickly. "I didn't think we'd be expecting any other company tonight, and a lock won't keep anything inside that really wants to get out."

Yuki kept shifting his attention back and forth between Hatori and Haru. What was going on?

"Who is that?" Yuki said out loud to no one in particular. He caught Haru's gaze as he asked, and then watched as Haru mouthed a name in response.

"Miki?" Yuki gasped, uncomprehendingly. Haru nodded, instructing her to move out of the open over the phone. The obvious questions went through his mind first. What was she doing here? How had she found the place?

The phone! All of a sudden it felt as though the roof opened up and all the rain that had been falling all night crashed down over Yuki in a giant, freezing rush. And now she was out there with that thing, ignorant of what she had walked into. He had to do something. Now. Still clutching the knife he'd taken from Tohru, Yuki darted up and sprinted out the door before his thoughts had a chance to catch up to what his body was doing.

"Miki!" He yelled to the darkness, not caring who heard him, hoping that he could draw some attention away from her.

"Yuki, get back here!" He heard Hatori call, but he didn't stay to hear what else he might say. There was no way he was going to leave her alone. It was his fault she was here. He had to save her. Tohru's suffering was already too much. Having Miki sacrificed was not going to happen. He sprinted in the direction of the gate entrance, holding tight to the knife, with no other thought other than he couldn't fail this time.

"Momiji, wait," Hatori stopped the rabbit before he moved too far away with the black bowl containing Tohru's and Yuki's blood. He exchanged a worried glance with Kazuma, who looked with regret at Tohru. "We're out of time."


	15. I Don't Know Who You Are

**Good news! I had my baby on September 2, a pretty little girl. Even more good news! Newborns sleep a lot and I no longer have to report to my regular job (well, not for another five weeks). Which leads to even more good news. You get an update and there is only one more chapter before this is finished. I'm really glad there's so much good news up here in the author's note, because down there in the fic, it's pretty dismal. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 15: I Don't Know Who You Are**

Hatori had done many things throughout his life that he was not proud of, that he regretted, that made him cringe in the night when he remembered them. Many of those things had been done to Tohru. He regretted that he hadn't detached her from their family at the very beginning, persuading Akito to give the order to have her removed from their presence. He regretted the moments of hope that he'd entertained when things were good, when it seemed that she did have a healing touch about her, a cheeriness that lightened all their burdens. He regretted stepping in when Yuki had tried to escape with her, and everything he had done to her after that was enough to leave him with his head in his hands – erasing her memory, abandoning her in Hinoi, kidnapping her, imprisoning her, watching her try to destroy herself. He didn't think it would be possible for him to do anything worse when it came to the girl who loved the Sohmas best.

He hadn't known until this moment what he would sacrifice for the Sohma family curse, that he would be willing to take this last drastic step and surrender Tohru to the harshest punishment possible. Tohru's and Yuki's combined blood smeared messily on the new bone bracelet as he painted every other bead.

"Kazuma," he said as he worked, keeping his eyes on what he was doing and every once in a while sneaking in a glance at Tohru. "Could you please make sure that Yuki doesn't get killed before I finish this?"

"I'll go with him," Shigure added as Kazuma nodded, already on his way toward the door.

"Maybe we should go too," Haru pondered aloud, staring out the window. "We'll get Yuki's friend out of the way." Hatori considered the pros and cons of his suggestion. Would it be worth it to send Haru and Momiji into danger on the odd chance that they might be able to help this stranger?

The sight of Tohru kneeling near the candle, her hand pressed against the injury on her arm, decided him. There would be no more outsider casualties for the Sohmas. This curse was their responsibility, theirs alone, and Hatori couldn't allow any more sacrifices.

"All right, go," he commanded, amazed at the calmness of his voice, the resolute tone. "But be very careful. We're almost through."

Haru tugged once at Momiji's sleeve, pulling the pale boy off the floor. They all disappeared into the night, leaving Hatori alone with Tohru.

"Do you understand what you've done?" He asked her, still painting blood. She nodded slowly, her eyes fixed on the bracelet that would be hers in a few moments.

"It's the only way," she said softly, as if her spirit were already outside and speaking to him from a great distance. "It's the only way for us to stay together."

"So you know what you have to do?" Hatori checked, still unsure that Tohru fully comprehended the situation she had forced herself into.

"Yes," Tohru said simply. It made Hatori nervous to see and hear her this way. He had known for a long while that her mental state was not good, that she was fragile and prone to irrational behavior. It was one thing to know this about her and do what he could to keep her comfortable. It was another thing entirely to bind her with an ancient ceremony to a task that was distressingly difficult.

"I don't know what to say to prepare you for what this will do to you," Hatori continued. "I don't know what this part of the curse feels like any more than I know what it feels like to not be cursed."

"That doesn't matter," Tohru replied, still firm. "I have to find him. I won't be alone anymore."

Having finished painting the beads, Hatori held the bones in the candle's flame momentarily, sealing the blood and the bond, creating the new prison for the enraged spirit outside, binding Tohru to their curse forever.

Tohru held out her arm eagerly as Hatori lifted the dry bones from the fire, and he knew that she really didn't understand. She had no idea what she was doing, what she was offering, what she was giving up. But in the end, she was right. It didn't matter that she knew or didn't know; it was already happening. It was already done.

"This isn't what I wanted," Hatori said, still clinging to the newly formed bracelet, unwilling to continue. "This wasn't how things were supposed to happen."

"How do you know?" Tohru asked, surprising the dragon. She pressed her arm toward him again, indicating that she was ready to take Kyo's place. Her gesture was steady; her eyes brighter than he'd seen them in months. She was full of renewed purpose, a determination that he admired even as he worried. And beneath his own fear, his own remorse, he could feel the stirrings of an emotion he had long thought stripped from his psyche. Hatori found that he did have a little hope left after all. He knew that the moment the candle went out, the moment he sent Tohru out into the darkness, the overwhelming reality would crush it, but for right now, he wanted to believe that she really could do what she said. That she really could make this right. That he really didn't know that this wasn't what was supposed to happen.

"I guess I don't," he answered her finally and took her left hand, deftly slipping the beads over her fingers, settling them into their new position against her wrist. As the blood-soaked bone came into contact with Tohru's pulse, her body tightened and a surprised gasp made its way out of her mouth. He watched her carefully, unsure that she was a strong enough vessel for this particular bond.

"It burns," she said in response to his concerned look. "Like my blood is being wrapped with a hot chain. Is that what it feels like for all of you?"

"No," Hatori said quickly, unsure exactly how it felt to be cursed since he didn't have anything to compare it to. But he did know that he had never felt what she was describing. "But we're bonded to a spirit that shares our body. What you are feeling now is a seal that's connecting you to Yuki." He stopped on the verge of explaining to her that this was just the beginning. It wasn't like having the information would help her. It was already too late to turn back, and he knew, looking at her, that she wouldn't even if the option were available.

She adjusted quickly to the new sensation, staring at the beads as she acclimatized herself to the curse. Then she stood, pulling Hatori also to his feet with just her presence.

"I'm going to Kyo now," she said, and Hatori nodded.

"I'm going with you."

From the moment he dashed outside, Yuki was overwhelmed by sound. The rain deafened him, filling his head with its splashing roar, making him strain to hear anything else. He could hear his panting breaths as he sprinted for the main gate. He could hear the sloshing, messy sound of his footsteps in the softened earth. He couldn't hear anything that sounded like Miki or the Monster. He chose to ignore the calls of his family as they raced behind him. He needed to do this. He needed to save her, to save someone! He gripped the knife tighter and pressed himself to run faster, willing himself to find her first before anything happened to her.

The main gate towered above him, growing as he neared it, blacking out the already dark clouds, the twin lights on each side shining down into the compound, illuminating the icy drops as they cascaded into already deep pools on the path.

And to Yuki's relief, the lights reflected off a shiny white umbrella. He didn't slow, rushing toward the figure in the brown coat, standing uncertainly beneath the light, unsure of what she should do now that she had already come so far.

"Miki," he called to her, and saw her turn just as he was hit with an unimaginable force. He tripped, instinctively rolling from the blow in the mud, bringing himself to a stop on his hands and knees and slashing the knife up as quickly as possible in defense. He didn't have time to be afraid, but he discovered that he was pleased to have gotten here before anything else.

"Yuki?" Miki questioned timidly. He opened his mouth to tell her to run, but as he lifted his eyes, he was surprised to see that they were still quite alone. Before he had figured out what had happened, where the Monster had disappeared after knocking him to the ground, his entire bloodstream set itself on fire, causing him to cry out.

"What's happening?" Miki asked, afraid, taking a step toward him and then deciding to stay where she was. Yuki gasped as the flames chained themselves into his heartbeat, wrapping around his veins and throbbing with his pulse. He felt suddenly heavy, unbalanced. He couldn't find the breath to answer, nor could he push himself from his hands and knees.

"Yuki, get up," Miki ordered, clutching her umbrella tightly and staring at him with wide eyes. When he didn't respond, she moved out of the light, stepping delicately through the mud toward where he knelt, reaching out to him with one slightly shaking hand. "Come on."

"Don't touch me!" He shouted at her, hating the hurt on her face as she startled backward, pulling her hand again to the safety of the umbrella handle. He wasn't certain that she wouldn't burst into flames if she were to put a hand on him, even though he now knew what was going on. Hatori must have completed the ceremony; Tohru must be wearing the beads. This fire was the bond sealing itself to him. He hoped that it wouldn't be this painful for Tohru.

"I'm sorry," Miki said. "I guess I shouldn't have come."

"No," Yuki agreed, never meaning anything more in his life, even though he knew that she would misunderstand. He pushed himself out of the mud, the flame of the bond waning enough that it didn't take his complete focus.

"I just thought I could help," Miki continued, digging into her coat pocket and producing his cell phone. "After you left, another text came through saying that someone had died. I didn't want you to be alone."

"You have to leave," Yuki told her, ignoring the conversation she was trying to start. They didn't have time to continue hashing over their relationship. Not here, not right under the light. "Right now. It's not safe." He took a step toward her, intent on grabbing her elbow and escorting her outside. Her face told him that she was still hurt and very confused. She still held out his cell phone, waiting for him to take it, but as he neared her, her expression shifted, deepened from confusion to fear, the same expression she had worn the very first time he had grabbed her hand as she was walking away from him on the bridge.

Instinctively Yuki pivoted to look over his shoulder, sure that she had caught a glimpse of the Monster behind him. But no, he couldn't discern anything in the darkness outside the light's circle. He turned back to her, trying to see where she was looking. Why wasn't she listening to him? Why couldn't she just go like he told her? Why was she looking at him like that?

"Are you bleeding?" She asked. "Why do you have a knife? What's going on?"

"Later," Yuki said, walking toward her again even as she shied away from him slightly. "Keep my phone. I'll come get it –" He broke off, suddenly aware of what he was about to do. Are you going to promise her that you'll come see her tomorrow? That you can talk this all out and explain everything? Even if everything works out, it's still better for her to leave and never come back. Right now, she's safe. She knows nothing. Keep it that way.

"No," Yuki amended his words. "I won't come get it. You turn around and go right back out those gates. I'm going to lock them behind you, and then you will never see me again."

"Yuki," Miki choked, tears shining in her eyes. "I don't understand. Why won't you let me help you?"

"You don't have to understand," Yuki said coldly. "You just have to go."

"But –"

"Go!" Yuki shouted, actually slashing the knife in the air in front of her to make his point. She jumped back, surprised at the outburst. Her lip trembled a moment before she bit it, hard.

"Fine," she said angrily, rubbing her thumb across his phone, looking at it briefly before throwing it at him. It splashed up mud where it landed on the ground, but Yuki made no move to retrieve it. He hated having to bully her away, but even so he felt better knowing that she would miss any horror that would happen within the gates tonight. "You don't make any sense, Yuki Sohma, and you're going to end up all alone with no one but yourself to blame."

"I know," he said quietly, urging her to move. That was how it should be. He should be alone. He should suffer. He should have everything taken from him that mattered. It was his responsibility.

Miki paused, taking tiny steps backward toward the gate, watching him carefully for any sign of change. He knew that she wanted him to call her back, to apologize, to explain. It didn't make it any easier that he actually did want to do all of those things and that she could probably tell from his expression, but that was, again, the selfish thing to do. Even though it was what she wanted.

She stepped back into the light of the gate, the beam flashing against the wet whiteness of the umbrella, and stopped, staring. Her mouth dropped open, her hand lifting to cover it. There was no doubt in Yuki's mind that she wasn't looking at him this time. The umbrella shook, scattering the rain at frenzied angles.

"What is that?" She asked, softly, and Yuki knew what was behind him now.

"Get out of here," he instructed one last time before turning to share her line of vision. As expected, Kyo was coming towards them, moving slowly on all fours like a stalking feline, the rain partially masking his sound and scent. The sight of him filled Yuki with angry disgust instead of fear. He always ruined everything.

"You're such an idiot," Yuki heard himself accuse, tightening his hold on the knife. "What were you thinking, stabbing Akito? Is this what you wanted? Do you know what you've done to Tohru? How can you be so selfish?"

The creature's mouth opened, but not in answer. It snarled at Yuki, his furious tone incensing it, as Yuki knew it would. Kyo might not be able to hear him anymore, but he had drawn some of his personality from this thing, and Yuki knew exactly what to say to make it angry.

"And for what?" Yuki continued, circling away from the gate, bringing the onryou's attention with him. "Another round of failure? You're pathetic." Yuki's blood was heated from more than just the sealing ceremony now. He wasn't able to taunt the monster any more, but he did manage to dodge its first strike at him. It was fast, much faster than Kyo had ever been, but luckily it was sloppier. Its movements lacked any of Kyo's precision, even though they exceeded his strength. It barreled past Yuki, close enough now that he could smell it. It made him shudder. The monster howled at missing Yuki, spinning in the mud to get at him from another direction, remaining on all fours to get better traction in the puddled ground.

Yuki was ready. He clutched the knife and waited, tensed, for another attack. He felt his lips pull back from his teeth, realizing that he was almost snarling too. This was all so stupid. "You're disgusting," he snapped, and the creature screamed back at him. "Come on," he taunted, hating standing there while the onryou stood poised that way, the adrenaline too much for him to wait. The serpentine head swayed back and forth on the long neck, as if gauging options. Then the muscles on its back legs constricted and it launched itself toward Yuki in a clumsy attempt. Yuki barely had to move to dodge this time, puzzled by the creature's obvious miss.

But then he saw the white umbrella, still huddled by the gate. Miki hadn't left yet. She stood paralyzed against the wood, her back pressed into it.

"No!" Yuki yelled, taking off toward her.

Knowing he'd never outrun the thing ahead of him, he paused just long enough to launch the knife at it. Though not an expert shot, the blade sank deep into the creature's right shoulder, causing its knees to buckle in surprise. In the seconds it took for it to recover, Yuki streaked past it. The monster didn't even try to remove the blade embedded in its back once it saw Yuki moving ahead. Yuki pushed himself faster and without thinking of anything other than getting Miki out of the way, he grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her as hard as he could. For one second, he felt her body close against his, felt the material of her coat against his cheek as he started her into motion.

"Run!" He instructed again, looking at her face and wondering if it would be the last time he saw it. Then everything in him changed. He felt his clothes balloon out around him, suddenly much too large and ill-proportioned for the rat's body. Disoriented, he struggled out of his shirt, racing out of the fabric to get to Miki, who was now screaming. He realized that they were moving, that she clung to his clothes instead of her umbrella, and she was running hard, dashing toward the clump of trees that shadowed the path at this part of the compound. The monster paused to sniff at the white umbrella that Miki had left, but it didn't take it long to turn its head toward them again.

"Yuki!" Miki shrieked in terror as Yuki pulled himself out of the cloth and was able to grip her coat to run up to her shoulder.

"Don't stop," he commanded her, knowing that his voice directly in her ear was going to surprise and frighten her. Her reaction was not unexpected. She turned her head toward him, seeing him now as a rat perched on her coat. Using his clothes, she flicked him off her body, making a distressed noise and then raced away from him. He landed awkwardly on his side, hearing himself squeak at the impact. Luckily, the ground was soft and it didn't actually hurt, even more fortunate that she had dropped his clothes next to him, but he still had huge problems. One in particular was headed right for him, though he wasn't sure if the monster could actually see him in the darkness or not. The rat part of him screamed with instinctive urgency to hide, to climb the nearest tree and press himself in its leaves and wait for this all to be over. Save yourself, the rat squealed. You're too small and this is too much. Your part in this is already finished.

For a moment, Yuki obeyed. He scampered up the tree, rushing around it so he would be hidden from view as the monster crashed past him. He allowed himself a sigh of relief at not being seen, but his peace was rapidly disrupted as he came to his senses. He shouldn't be relieved! He'd been passed over because the onryou was still chasing after Miki. The overwhelming feeling of disgust rushed over him again, the same as when he'd been shouting at the monster. He leaped from the tree, hurrying over to his clothes and hoping his time as a rat would be short. It wasn't until that moment he realized that he wasn't angry at the monster. He was disgusted with himself.

Miki hurt. At first there was just the sting of rejection from Yuki ordering her to leave and never bother him again. Then came the broken jangling of seeing that, she didn't even know what to call it, that thing coming out of the darkness, stalking them. Physical hurt followed as her legs and lungs began to burn from running faster than she had ever thought she could move before, desperate to outpace the smell of death that was racing right at her heels. It was so big, so terrible, so terrifying. And Yuki had just disappeared! She'd heard him, she thought, right before that rat had jumped on her shoulder. He told her not to stop, as if she would. She sprinted, forcing her legs to keep up with her terror, still hearing the creature behind her, hissing as it moved. Yuki had talked to it, challenged it, as if he knew what it was.

She burst clear from the trees, new fear shaking her as she realized how exposed she was now that they were behind her. There were houses dotting the lawns, looking deceptively peaceful, closed and dark. Would she have time to beg for sanctuary at one of them before she was clawed to death? Would anyone wake up to admit her, a stranger? Would being inside really make her safe?

"Help me," she tried to scream, but her body needed too much of her oxygen for her to make as much sound as she needed to be heard over the rain. "Yuki," she whimpered, wondering what had happened to him. Where was he? How could he just leave her like that? He'd been there. She remembered watching them both rushing toward her, felt his arms around her for one moment as he broke her into motion. Then there was nothing.

Miki felt a shaky sob cut into her already sore throat. What if he had been taken down by the Monster? What if he'd pushed her out of the way and the only reason she had any kind of advantage was because it had taken the time to kill Yuki before coming after her? The thought brought renewed speed to her flight. Why hadn't she left when Yuki told her to? Obviously he knew something horrible was going on. She was so stupid not to have obeyed. So arrogant to think that there couldn't be something larger than their private feelings.

Behind her, the Monster crashed its way out of the trees, the shrieking of the breaking wood loud even in the rain. Her panicked squeak in response to the knowledge of how close it was behind her was lost in the roar.

"Kyo!" A human voice yelled, closer to Miki than the thing that pursued her. A female voice. It sounded in control, and familiar. Miki altered her direction towards it. In another moment, two figures appeared in the splattering rain. One her height and wearing only a large, white shirt over soaked pants. The other was much taller and darker in a coat.

"Don't call it," the taller apparition cautioned, but without much force.

"Help me," Miki yelped, throwing herself into their company. She felt a hand steady her shoulder and forced herself not to fall to her knees now that she was no longer running. Before she could make out any other details, she felt herself pulled into the darkness behind one of the houses where the rain didn't hit quite as hard. It was such a contrast to where she had been that it felt quite close to a sanctuary.

"Tohru, please stay here," the deeper voice continued, and if Miki paid attention, she could still hear the larger movements of the creature still close to the trees. Now that they were out of sight, it seemed it had slowed down considerably. She could picture it in her mind, imagining it raising its weird head, cocking those ears, sniffing the soaked air to find them. She trembled. "We need to find Yuki first. We need to find the knife before you can finish anything."

It took another moment before Miki could focus on what she was hearing. Tohru? She looked at the people she was hiding with, recognizing now her old friend and coworker, Meeka, standing next to the man with strange eyes that had come to take her away from the restaurant so many weeks ago.

"Meeka," Miki sputtered, which caused her friend to look at her with steady eyes. The steadiness didn't exactly fit with the wet clothes or scratched cheeks, but it was still quite the welcome sight. "What's going on?" Not answering her question, Meeka pulled Miki tight in a wet hug.

"Stay with Hatori," were her only words as she released her, gently pushing her toward the man.

"You stay too," Hatori pleaded without much force. "We need to wait for –"

"Yuki doesn't have the knife," Meeka cut him off. "It's stuck in," she paused, her emotions suddenly overwhelming her. "It's in his back," she finished, biting her lip and shaking her head. Hands covered Miki's shoulders cautiously as Hatori held on to her. She felt sure that he was only doing it because he wanted to hang on to Meeka but somehow couldn't.

New voices burst out from around their hiding place, breaking them into motion again. Hatori gripped Miki's shoulders tighter and Meeka dashed toward the sounds of struggle in the open courtyard.

"Tohru," Hatori called one last time, but didn't go after her. Miki gathered her courage enough to peek around the corner, bringing her reluctant guardian with her as she moved. Together they watched. The new voices belonged to two men, one about the same age as the one Miki was hiding with, but the other seemed older. They both wore robes, one pure black and the other a lighter brown. They worked together to bring the Monster to the ground, the older one ripping the knife from where Yuki had managed to lodge it against one of the distorted shoulder blades. The creature struggled against them, snapping its jaws and ripping around with its mangled hands to try and pull them off. It shrieked as they shouted, charging the atmosphere with terror as bright as the lightning.

Meeka rushed forward to the fight, her head bowed against the rain and her figure tiny compared to the others. Miki grabbed at Hatori's hands, but she didn't know what she wanted to do. Part of her wanted to cling to him for safety, as much as he could give, and the other wanted to run after her friend and drag her away from the danger she was running straight for.

"What is she doing?" She screamed, needing someone to answer her. What was that horrible thing? What was it doing here and why was Meeka so intent on it?

"She's going to kill it," Hatori answered, sadly and again without conviction. Miki certainly wasn't convinced. Kill it? Meeka? She pictured her at their last meeting, trembling over her teacup, her eyes unfocused and large. She didn't even have it in her to talk harshly; the thought of violence, deadly force, coming from such a humble person was ridiculous. Even if she had the motivation, that thing would overpower her in a moment.

"Kyo!" Meeka cried again, bringing the Monster's attention to her as she hurried toward it. With renewed effort, it dropped to the ground, rolling in the mud to free itself from the men who tried to hold it still. The older one, the one holding the freed knife, was the first on his feet, dashing toward Meeka, while the younger one lunged at the creature's back in an attempt to keep it on the ground.

In a moment, the black robed man was at Meeka's side, wrapping himself around her like a shield and putting the handle of the knife in her hand. Then he shifted his grip to her wrist and her waist, bending to speak directly into her ear. She shook her head and he shook her whole body once in a frustrated manner.

"It has to be done, Tohru," Hatori said, this time with sureness in his tone. "There is no other way. Just let him help you quick." Miki internally nodded her assent. Please kill it, she wished. Do it fast before it kills all of us. Her heart constricted in fear as it jerked itself upright again, a huge black silhouette compared to Meeka, shaking violently and knocking off the younger man who desperately tried to keep his grip. It advanced on Meeka, moving slowly this time, bowing its head and opening its mouth in a grisly smile. Meeka lifted the knife above her, the man's hand still holding to her wrist, keeping her securely on task. The Monster made a low sound deep in its throat. Miki put her hands over her eyes, unable to keep watching.

Yuki sprinted through the break in the trees, dashing out on the open ground, ready to shout Miki's name into the uncertain scene. But when he could see clearly what was going on, he stopped short, deciding to take a moment to figure out what was happening. Miki was no where to be seen, but the Monster was there, bowing low to Tohru, who stood with Kazuma's support, with the knife tight in her hand. He panted in relief, glad that they were only seconds from resolving the danger. Shigure stood from where the Monster had thrown him, moving in again to help immobilize Kyo so Tohru could finish. Yuki also moved forward, intent on helping him. As he stalked around behind, he began to hear through the rain that the scene wasn't exactly what he thought.

"Come on, Tohru," Kazuma shouted. "I've got you; we have to do this."

"No," Tohru countered. "Look at him. If he had really wanted to hurt someone, he would have done it by now." Then she raised her voice to speak to the animal in front of her. "Kyo? You can still hear me, can't you?"

"Stop it!" Kazuma yelled. "He's just not there anymore, Tohru." His voice betrayed how much this hurt him to admit, how much he didn't want it to be true any more than Tohru did. "You can't save him." In his grief, Kyo's master allowed his grip to loosen on Tohru as he tried to explain to her how things were, how they would not be the same again.

Still defiant, Tohru took the moment of Kazuma's distraction and pulled her wrist out of his hand. Once left to her own devices, she quickly threw the knife, flinging it as hard as she could.

"No!" Several of the Sohmas shouted as if the spoken denial could catch the knife and bring it back within easy range. Yuki didn't exactly see where it fell but knew that he was the closest. He felt his heels slip on the grass as he tried to change directions but managed to keep his feet. The Monster screamed behind him, making his heart charge with panic and slowing him down even more than the rain. It confused him. What was it doing exactly? Was it Yuki that it wanted? Did it want revenge on the Rat more than anything else so that it would leave a closer, easier target to come after him once it saw him?

Yuki hurried to where he thought the ancient weapon fell, scanning rapidly, hoping to catch a glint of it, suddenly realizing that he wasn't really an intended victim. He gave up a precious second of searching to look over his shoulder, watching as the Monster stalked him now, gaining on him surely but not really rushing. It would seem that its actions were nonsensical and malicious, but Yuki was no longer sure. Tohru had a point. Why hadn't it done any real damage? There had been lots of close calls, but no one had been seriously hurt. And the way it had come at Yuki before, as if it had been playing, as if it had been offering him an opening to use the knife.

He saw it now, almost right at his feet. The knife. That's what the creature really wanted. The threat it posed was all a show. It wanted to be killed, contained again in a new Sohma prison. Yuki picked up the knife without stopping, continuing to run in a large arc back toward the trees and away from his family. Even with his new discovery, he didn't trust it completely. He didn't want to be wrong and have it cost him anyone he cared about.

"Yuki! Get back here!" He didn't know who called him, probably more than one person. He had what they needed, what Tohru needed, to start a new curse cycle. "What are you doing?"

He wasn't exactly sure what he was doing, but he was aware at this point that he was being chased by more than just the Monster. Tohru was quickly leaving Shigure and Kazuma behind as she headed single-mindedly for Kyo. Yuki stopped then, abruptly, pivoting to meet the creature face-to-face as he had once before. But this time he wasn't angry or even concerned. He saw Tohru's determined face as she neared them, saw the Monster slow as it realized that Yuki was no longer running away from it. It began to close the distance between them menacingly, but with a caution.

Yuki knew better than to think that Kyo was still in charge of the creature's actions, but that didn't mean that it had no control at all. He thought of the cat, of the onryou, both outcasts. Why wouldn't they want to remain connected to the Sohmas, to their enemies, to something? Tohru was almost to them now, coming at them from the side as the Monster and the Rat held still, considering each other from a careful distance. Even Tohru, even after all the terrible things the Sohmas had done to her, she had wanted more than anything to remain with them, to stay together. And after so many centuries, it only made sense.

But what didn't make sense was Tohru, in allowing her to take custody of the cat's spirit. Why should Yuki let her, an outsider, take up the burden that rightfully belonged to the family? How could he allow her to take Kyo's place? After all that had been done already, how could he give her the knife and let her take up the most hated position of the zodiac? No. He wasn't going to give Miki what she thought she wanted, and he wasn't going to give it to Tohru either.

However, he was going to give the Creature what it desired. He had the knife; he was the closest. He'd been thinking it for months now. It should be him. The Rat should step up and take the full responsibility for what it had done, and that didn't mean becoming the head of the household. Just the opposite. He would cage the Monster this time. And he would do it in such a manner to prevent as much suffering as possible, to Tohru, to everyone. This was the best choice.

"Yuki," Tohru called him, but he wasn't sure what she wanted to say. He was too far along in his plans, in his certainty that what he was doing was the right thing. It was still standing in front of him, waiting patiently while he gathered his thoughts.

"Stay back, Tohru," he said, almost unaware that he was speaking out loud. His eyes were intently locked on the slitted ones of the Monster. He felt calm remorse.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized to the onryou, to the Cat, to Tohru, to Miki, to Akito, and especially to Kyo. "I wish there was a better way," he added.

"Yuki, stop!" Tohru shrieked, and Yuki knew he would have to be fast before she interfered. She didn't understand the way he did. She hadn't looked into the creature's eyes and seen who it was, didn't know the way he knew that he was doing what it wanted, that this would keep it close to them, keeping it a part of something. That he was finally atoning for his many selfish acts. That he was proving that he meant it when he said he was sorry for everything he'd ever done to cause his family pain.

"I'm ready," Yuki told the Monster, and it leaped for him eagerly.

"No, don't!" Tohru cried, rushing between them. Yuki barely noticed her; he was so intent on the onryou. He pushed the knife forward, aiming for its heart, hoping it wouldn't suffer too much before its spirit was encased safely in his body. The animal raced forward into it, hurrying to its end. Yuki closed his eyes against the sight of it barreling into him, hoping his strike was true, hoping that he was right about the monster and its motivations.

Then the knife hit and Yuki used his whole strength to push it through, realizing that it was no easy task to put a blade through the scaly flesh of the creature. He took a quick look to make sure it was where it should be, that it wasn't caught on a rib, and then groaned in horror. "Tohru, why?" He voiced. She had her back to him, facing the creature, her hand securely fastened around the blade of the knife, keeping it from striking a fatal blow. The Monster screamed in pain and irritation, using its weight to bear down on both of them. Yuki felt Tohru's knees give way under the immensity of the onryou as it toppled over onto them. He felt the knife slip past her blood-slippery fingers as it finally hit home, felt her hand slide over his on the hilt. The onryou made a small, gentle sound, almost a sigh, before it crumpled over them completely. Tohru gasped, but neither of them eased up the tiniest bit on the hilt of the knife. Yuki felt the onryou's blood beating out of its body and covering them both. He felt Tohru's body contort around his as the onryou folded over them like a large animal skin. Then, abruptly, he felt nothing at all.

"What happened?" Yuki's friend screamed, too overwhelmed by what she was seeing to keep quiet anymore. Hatori still clung to her shoulders, probably too tightly, but he didn't have an answer. He felt a confused sense of relief. The Monster was dead, but it wasn't exactly Tohru who had done it. He wasn't quite sure if he should be happy yet or not. The Rat had never tried to do something like this before. The outcome was uncertain.

"Come on!" Kazuma shouted to Shigure, and together they hurried to heave the body of the onryou from Tohru and Yuki. They rolled it awkwardly to the side, bending over the others. Hatori stared, waiting for Yuki to stand.

"What's going on?" The girl whimpered. Hatori didn't know. He knew what was supposed to happen. He knew what he had read and what he had been taught by dragons before him. This scenario was unprecedented. There was no way to know.

"Hatori!" Shigure called, and he found it quite difficult to relax his fingers enough to release the girl. He didn't like the tone Shigure used to call him. There was too much urgency in it. Too much fear. There shouldn't be anything more to fear. It was supposed to be finished. He walked leadenly to where the others clustered, feeling dead inside. They would want him to have an explanation for whatever was over there. They would want him to reassure them. He reached into his pocket, fumbling for his pack of cigarettes. He would much rather fill his lungs with their comforting and familiar smoke than breathe in the stench of the dead onryou.

"They won't wake up," Shigure explained as Hatori reached them. Tohru lie settled against Yuki's chest, their hands both holding fast to the knife hilt. "Yuki hasn't changed," Shigure added, as if Hatori hadn't noticed. Both sets of eyes were closed. Hatori knelt beside them, checking their vitals. They were cold to the touch, but they were both breathing.

"Let's get them inside," was the only thing he could think of to say. "Get them clean and warm." He scooped up Tohru, noting that she weighed almost nothing.

"Hatori?" Shigure stared at him openmouthed. "How?"

"She's part of the curse," he explained, grateful he could answer something, even though he no longer was sure which part of the curse she controlled. "She won't change us now."

Recovering slightly, Shigure also knelt to pick up Yuki, having to throw the taller teenager over his shoulder. Kazuma, too, was on his knees, but his attention was on the Creature.

"We will bury him," Hatori promised, feeling part of Kazuma's hurt over this loss.

"Come inside," Shigure said, uncomfortable.

"I'll stay with him a little longer," Kazuma said softly, reaching out with both hands to place them tenderly on the reptilian head. Hatori nodded, moving away.

"Meeka! Yuki!" The girl that Haru called Yuki's girlfriend had reached them now. Hatori recognized her at last as the waitress from the restaurant where he'd found Tohru a job, still using the name that Hatori had given her when he'd left her in Hinoi. She reached out to both of her unconscious friends, but couldn't bring herself to touch them. "Are they going to be ok?" She asked fearfully.

"Everything is going to be ok," Hatori promised, fully aware that at least for this girl it would be. Well, it would be after he finished erasing her memories of this entire evening. "Come with us out of the rain." They trooped together with Hatori's lead back to his own house where all his medical supplies were. Shigure flipped on the lights casually, bringing a grisly scene to view. The floor was a mess of dirt and blood, the counter still strewn with hypodermic needles. The remnants of Tohru's other shirt were draped over the trashcan, and he had not bothered to tidy up after bandaging the scratches across her ribcage. He stood surveying the room, wondering where to even begin.

"Take Yuki to my room," he instructed with a methodical voice. "Get him out of his wet things and into my bed. He'll need to be kept warm. And you," he addressed the waitress, "What is your name?"

"Miki Takeda," she answered promptly, as if she were relieved that she at least still knew something.

"Miki, if you could help me with Tohru."

"Hatori!" Two more figures burst into the room, panting. Haru and Momiji. "We saw the thing outside," Momiji said. "Is it over? Is everything ok? Where's Yuki? What happened?"

"We're still waiting," Hatori answered, unsure. If all went as planned, the person who killed the cat did lose consciousness for a little while as the spirit of the onryou shifted into the new body and the bond solidified. It wasn't supposed to affect the head of house like it was affecting Yuki. And it wasn't supposed to take this long. It worried Hatori. He wasn't sure what would happen, but he didn't want to worry anyone yet. He wanted to do things one at a time. He wanted to clean his floor and put things back where they should be. He wanted things to make sense.

"Haru," he continued matter-of-factly. "Take an umbrella to Kazuma, then you and Momiji put up another futon for Tohru."

"He has one," Haru replied. "We found a white one at the Main Gate and were bringing it back with us when we found him out there."

"Hatori," Momiji's voice cut into conversation again. "If it's all over, then why don't I feel any better?" Miki nodded from her anxious position near Tohru's head, and even Haru looked at him expectantly.

"It's Kyo," Haru said, always speaking what was in his head despite how it might affect those around him. "It's because we lost Kyo."

Momiji scrubbed his arm over his eyes. "I feel so bad for him," he whimpered. "Him and Tohru."

"The futon," Hatori ordered, needing them all to keep moving before they were uselessly overwhelmed by grief. There would be time later to wade through these feelings. But first he wanted Tohru and Yuki warm and awake, and he wanted to be secure in the knowledge that the bonds were safely in place once again. Haru placed a comforting hand around his cousin's shoulders, leading him toward the bedroom. Hatori turned his attention to Tohru, checking her carefully for any injuries, for any sign that she was beginning to return to them. He avoided Miki's eyes, keeping himself fully involved in cleaning the mud from her face and the blood from her hands. He didn't speak again until both his cousin and Tohru were under blankets in his room, and he was kneeling at Yuki's side with Shigure kneeling across from him at Tohru's.

"Their breathing is slowing," the dog noted, and Hatori almost hissed at him to be quiet. He didn't want to hear what he already was trying to deny. "How long should they stay like this?" Instead of answering, Hatori took Tohru's wrist, checking her pulse for the hundredth time. He knew that it also was slowing. Their faces were pale, their fingers still icy cold even under all the blankets. "What's going on?" Hatori shook his head.

"I don't know," he finally confessed. "It's like they are getting farther and farther away from us."

"What does that mean?" Shigure pressed, worriedly.

"It means that the ceremony wasn't done correctly," Hatori said. "There should only be one vessel for the onryou to enter, not two separate entities at once. I don't know where they are or what's happening any more than you do, but I do know that unless they wake up soon, we're going to lose them too."


	16. Trying to Figure Out This Life

Author's Note: First up, an apology. I am very sorry that this is taking so long to finish. I'm also very sorry that I said there would only be one more chapter. There is just too much. There's going to be one MORE chapter after this one. Again, SORRY! And now, a thank you. Thanks so much for your comments and your sweet emails checking on me to make sure I'm ok. I am ok. We had to move unexpectedly (as in, "hey, we're going to bulldoze your house" all Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy style), and that has taken a huge chunk of my life. Not just the move, but now that we have a new house, both of my children have gone on sleep strikes. It's been, um, educational, but it's getting better and I'm not quite the walking zombie I was before. Thanks for sticking with me. I'm enjoying this story more than I can tell you, and I'm really happy that it's all going to be downhill from here.

Chapter Sixteen: Trying to Figure Out This Life

It might not have lasted very long, but the amount of pain pressed into those moments stretched them out interminably. Yuki cowered, clutching his arms over his chest, drawing his knees in as tightly as possible. Slowly, the pain pulled away in strands, singling itself out into individual hands, shadows outside of his closed eyes, and, eventually, distinguishable words.

"It's a rat," someone said, a touch surprised.

"A rat?" Someone else echoed with more than a touch of surprise. "Another one?"

"So soon?"

"Did the bond fail?"

"Ask him what happened."

"Is he dead?"

"Why else would he be here?"

Yuki opened his eyes at the mention of him being dead. Figures surrounded him, and he kicked his way to his feet in a panic. Twisting to gauge how outnumbered he was, he backed himself away. The room where he found himself, much to his dismay, was swarming with people. All wearing white robes resembling burial shrouds. All with black streaks over their skin, down their throats, over their arms, spiderwebbing across their cheeks. Each of them dangled a cord securely fastened to their wrist. These cords trailed to the floor and then braided with all the others around a pillar that stood like some macabre maypole in the center of the area. Some forms seemed pinned against it, cords wrapped around not just their wrists, but ankles and chests, throats and knees, as if they had become netted there by the others' movements. There was something familiar about them all, the shape of their eyes, the twisted grace of their forms, the shadows they cast on the walls around them.

"I'm not dead," he heard himself deny just as his back pressed against what he hoped was a wall. Or was he? He thought back quickly, trying to remember how he'd gotten here. There had been rain, a fight, a knife. He studied his hands, seeing for the first time that he still held the hilt of the short ceremonial knife. The creature that had once been Kyo had rushed toward him. He had felt the blade stab into it. He remembered the smell as the body fell on top of him. Was that really how it had ended? All those times throughout his childhood when he knew for sure that his next breath wasn't coming, that it was too hard to draw any air into his burning lungs. All those illnesses and breathing treatments that he'd endured only to have his last breath crushed out of him by that thing? How could that be true?

And did that mean he had failed? He had tried to take Tohru's place in the ceremony, to take over the cat host position, the prison of the vengeful onryou spirit, making Tohru the head of Sohma house and the keeper of his bond for her lifetime. It had seemed so right when he'd done it. So appropriate for him to take that upon himself.

And yet, there was another memory, at the very last second, right when he'd driven the hilt home. Tohru's small hand grasping the blade, preventing the smoothness of a killing stroke. She had fallen with him. He inspected the room again, trying to find one face in the horde. Her face.

"You came alone," a new voice answered the question he had not asked. "And you're not dead." The voice crawled through Yuki's mind the way frost encases flower petals, slowly and with biting chill. He pressed himself harder against the wall, stopping just short of brandishing the knife for protection.

"Akito," he named his clan leader, his predecessor, his fear. With a pleased smile, as if he had been summoned instead of merely recognized, the last Sohma leader stepped toward him out of the cluster of nameless others. "Don't move," Yuki commanded as threateningly as he was able. Akito raised his hands in supplication, a silver cord bound tightly around his left wrist.

"I'm not going to touch you," he promised, without a hint of mockery. Yuki was not in the least comforted.

"What's going on?" Yuki demanded, hating how out of control he was here, how defenseless and without a plan. "If I'm not dead, why am I talking to you?"

"I guess I should say, you're not dead yet," Akito amended, no longer smiling. Yuki found it hard to concentrate on what Akito was saying. He kept looking around at the mass of people crowded into the room, trying to perceive if they should be considered a threat. They shifted, each staring at him with unreadable expressions, partly curious, partly frightened. "But if you stay here – Yuki, listen. If you stay here, it won't take long."

"Where are we?" Yuki demanded. He gestured to the silver cord. "What is that?"

"This is where all Sohmas bound to the curse go when they die. As for this," Akito fingered the cord with a gesture full of disgust and respect. "The bonds never break. The Sohmas are servants to the zodiac, forever."

Yuki nodded, putting pieces together. The familiarity of the forms made sudden sense. They were all Sohmas, all at one time while they were alive a host to a zodiac spirit. All still tied to the curse. He felt a twinge of pity and a deeper sense of loss. He looked around him again, recognizing at last the signs of horse hosts, rams, snakes, the other lost rats like Akito – like himself.

"The cats aren't here," he said, knowing already why. He dragged his eyes to Akito's, feeling uncomfortable looking directly at them. But they were different now. Free of malice, of jealousy. They no longer glittered with scheming. They were sad and lonely, even though Akito was now surrounded, as he had always liked, with members of the Juunishi.

"The cats," Akito confirmed, even as the others around them suddenly started mumbling, a buzz of anger. "The cats have their own place."

An idea came to Yuki then. He fingered the hilt of the knife, taking only a moment to wonder if his thoughts were right. Could it be done? Would he have enough time?

"How long?" He asked. "How long before I can't go back?"

Akito stepped forward again, and Yuki stiffened, forcing himself not to flinch away. "Hold out your arm," Akito instructed even as he did the same thing. Yuki made a fist and stuck out his arm, holding it palm up as Akito was doing. This close, he could finally tell what made the black streaks on the others. The black outlined where their veins had been. On Yuki's arm there were also streaks, but his were golden. Every so often, a thread of black corkscrewed from fingertip to elbow and onward out of his vision. He understood. He looked back to Akito's arm, seeing the cord again. It was tight, so tight. The veins near it were not black or golden. They pulsed an angry scarlet.

Seized with a sudden urge, Yuki reached out to touch the silver cord on Akito's wrist. This time, for the first time, Akito flinched from Yuki, pulling away and clutching his arm to his chest protectively. Confused at this sudden change in their never-ending power struggle, Yuki studied his predecessor. It sickened him to see him this way. It sickened him to know that he had probably always been like this, lonely, unsure, insecure.

No, he thought defiantly, this couldn't be it for them. This room, all together and yet isolated. It just couldn't end that way. Before he could think to stop himself, before Akito could move away again, Yuki reached out with all the speed he had and caught Akito securely by the wrist, just above where the cord dug into him.

It was a mistake. Both rats dropped to their knees in instant electrifying anguish. And like electricity, Yuki found that now he had touched him, he could not let Akito go. Pain poured from where they touched, filling every corner of Yuki's heart. He remembered in rapid clarity every moment he and Akito had spent together, every hurtful word they had said to each other, every furious thought he had screamed in his mind even when he'd kept his mouth shut. And it didn't end then. He remembered, through Akito's thoughts, hours of solitude, self-loathing, and fear. Years of emotional damage condensed into one horrifying moment.

An eternity later, they pulled apart, cringing on their knees away from each other, panting even though they were no longer in their bodies and shouldn't have needed to. Yuki gathered all his courage to look at Akito, now with perfect understanding and shame. For his part, Akito bent over his knees, his hands covering his head, shuddering.

"Souls aren't meant to touch each other," chastened a Sohma from the crowd. "To see another's thoughts, all their secrets at once. It's too raw."

"I'm sure you all learned that for yourselves the same way I just did," Yuki countered, more strength in his voice than he would have thought possible. He looked back at Akito, who had not moved, and with all his heart he wanted to touch him again even at the same time he wanted to run away from him. In the end, he moved forward slowly, taking the silver cord carefully into his hand. It felt surprisingly cold, like snakeskin. Akito stiffened, raising his head to see what Yuki was doing, his eyes large.

"Yuki," he began, but Yuki didn't wait to hear what he wanted to say. With one short tug of his knife, he cut the bond holding Akito to the pillar. Akito gasped, swaying dizzily, staring. For a scary moment, Yuki thought that the cord was the only thing holding Akito together, that now it had been cut he would dissolve into complete darkness. His whole image dimmed alarmingly, and Yuki reached out to steady him, but then pulled his hand back again. The others in the room gasped at the action, every gaze centered on Akito, on what would happen now that he was free.

Akito encircled his wrist with the fingers of his opposite hand, slowly rising to his feet. Yuki followed suit, keeping his eyes on him.

"It's so strange," Akito whispered.

The others were too curious now to stand still. They crept closer, asking questions, their voices braiding inquisitively around Yuki and Akito just as their bindings wrapped around the pillar. But Yuki didn't want to stay and answer any questions. He had found out what he wanted to know. The knife would cut. His plan should work.

"I'm going to the neko room," he said determinedly. Akito nodded.

"No," said the voices, suddenly anxious and threatening. Yuki abruptly found himself facing a horde of his ancestors, each coming forward and bearing their bound wrists to him, ready also to be freed by his knife. He looked at the masses, thinking quickly, knowing he could not stay to cut them all free, nor could he leave the knife. The door, he found as he rapidly scanned his surroundings again, was in the same place as it was in the waking world. It was also too far. He exchanged another look with Akito, and for the first time he could tell that they were understanding each other.

"Run, Yuki," Akito said softly. Tightening his grip on the hilt, Yuki dashed for the door. The Juunishi moved as one, like a flock of birds, surrounding his exit. Akito ran with him, and each of them dodged as many as possible, trying hard to move forward and not touch anyone for fear of being crippled by shared pain as before. Akito more than once pushed at them, covering Yuki's escape. Some leaped back before he could touch them, and others were not fast enough. Either way, they did not get to Yuki, though he could feel a burning sensation, hot and fierce, whenever he bumped into someone. When one stood in front of them, halting them for a moment, Yuki reached out with the knife and sliced her bond apart. She too, swayed and dropped to her knees at the sudden light emptiness of freedom, and in so doing blocked a number of others coming in behind her.

With renewed purpose Yuki jumped over her, slicing at bonds left and right, hacking through them as those closest to him held them out eagerly. Those who could not reach piled on top of each other despite the pain of contact until Yuki ran through a tunnel of lost souls, ripping at their cords, careless of the faces he was freeing, not pausing to see what happened to them after he felt the tautness of the bond break. The noise rattled against him, cries of happiness, screams of desperation, wails of agony all around.

At the door, he made several last slashes and then pushed through it, knowing as soon as he'd passed the threshold that this would be the limit of those still bound. Their cords would let them go no farther than this. He did not run out alone. Those he had managed to free in his flight also raced out with him, laughing now in a nervous energy. He took a moment to collect himself and watch them scatter, discovering their new world free of the deathly banquet hall, free of the Sohma curse. His heart was suddenly weighed down as he caught the eye of a tiny girl at the doorframe, a small tiger – he could tell. She looked so much like Kisa, right down to the dismal acceptance in her brown eyes, that he almost turned back. Why shouldn't he free them all?

"Yuki," Akito said, suddenly at his side. He didn't break eye contact with the tiger to regard him. "Don't dwell on it."

"That's easy for you to say, now that you're free," Yuki accused him.

"Yuki," Akito said again, standing in front of him when Yuki still wouldn't look at him. "Save the living first, since you're so keen on saving someone." Yuki stiffened, quick to be angry at Akito despite what they'd just gone through. "I saw," Akito explained. "I felt your guilt. If you think you've wronged the people you know now, save them first. Even if you went back inside and cut all the cords, new ones would knot again and your family, the ones you know now, will fill the hall again."

Yuki hesitated, wanting to save both the generations before and after him, and yet knowing that Akito was right. There wasn't enough time.

"Come on," Akito gestured, with conviction in his voice now, almost as it had been when he had been alive. "Let's go kill that thing for real."

Tohru did not move for a long time after opening her eyes. There was so much darkness around her, such emptiness that she knew that she was failed and lost forever. The only light seemed to come from her own body, shining in gold pulses and allowing her to make out only that she was inside a bamboo cage. In her hands she held a length of scarlet cord, rough and hot, that she wasn't quite sure what to do with. More than anything, she missed Kyo.

"Tohru."

She sat up, not sure if she had really heard someone call her or if she had just been wishing it so hard that it had seemed real. A small orange cat came into view, striding over to her slowly and carefully. Seeing him spurred her to her feet and she lurched toward him, catching him up in her arms and burying her face in the wiry fur.

"Kyo," she whimpered. "I'm so glad to see you."

If the cat had been surprised by her reaction to his presence, he recovered quickly and wriggled from her grasp, landing lightly on his feet in front of her. Tohru looked at him again, hurt, but realized this time that this cat was not Kyo any more than the monster had been. When Kyo was a cat, he was sleek and lean. This cat was skeletal with matted fur. He wore a tight scarlet collar around his neck.

"Come with me, Tohru," the cat invited, turning into the darkness. "You need to seal the bond and return to your body quickly."

"Please," Tohru said, even though she had started walking behind the cat obediently. "What happened to Kyo?"

But the cat spirit did not answer her or even acknowledge that she had spoken. He led her deep into the bamboo cage, the bars becoming closer and closer together. Dead leaves and vines tangled across the floor, giving the space a feeling of long, careless abandonment.

"What is this place?" Tohru tried again with a different question. It seemed familiar to her, and yet wrong.

"This is where all the souls of the Sohmas come after they die," the cat answered, not turning, striding purposefully through the dark on a path that he obviously knew very well. Tohru suddenly felt hopeful.

"Then Kyo is here?" She asked and had to pull herself up short so she wouldn't step on her small guide. He stood in his tracks, but now his head turned to consider her, his slitted eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Why do you ask?" He said, but without much curiosity in his tone. She opened her mouth to answer, but found that there was too much to say. Because she wanted to see him again. Because the last horrible moments when Momiji and Haru had dragged her out of that room, the last picture of him in her head was too terrible. Covered in blood, shirtless, slumped and sad on the floor where Hatori had locked him away and alone. Because he had tried to save her and then suddenly she was trying to save him and both of them had failed. Because she needed to tell him something. Because she really didn't think, even though she knew that she had an obligation to the Sohmas now to keep back the threat that had taken him from her, she didn't think that she could really live without him.

"Because we are supposed to stay together," she answered finally, not knowing what else to say. The cat looked away from her again.

"If you are the new host, then you will be together," he told her, and suddenly the bamboo cage didn't seem quite so gloomy. If she could be with Kyo, then everything would be all right.

"Then let's hurry," she said, and the cat nodded, picking up the pace. Tohru followed quickly, wondering where the cat was leading her. To Kyo?

"We're going to the onryou," he finally said, slowing down. Tohru couldn't see any reason to pause, only that the darkness seemed more solid in front of them than it did before. "You must tie that cord onto it; it doesn't matter where. Then I will help you return to your body. The seal will be complete."

"Will it," Tohru paused, unsure if she wanted to ask this question. The thought of getting close enough to the creature to tie something to it seemed impossible.

"It hasn't resisted being bound for many generations now," the cat assured her. "It will be still."

Tohru thought about that as she strained her eyes to see what might be lurking in the blackness ahead of her. Why wasn't it resisting? Why wouldn't it want its freedom? She took several hesitant steps forward, feeling her way over the debris on the floor, until she was encased in the dark, rotting stench of the onryou spirit. For a moment, she stepped back, covering her face with her hands. But then she took hold of the scarlet cord she held, thinking of the Sohmas who waited for her to set the seal. Once she was bound to the spirit, she would be bound to Kyo and all the rest of the outcast cats. She would be part of the Juunishi, just as she always wanted. She could take some of their burden, take over HIS burden, the way she had so desperately wished. Kyo would never be neglected or feared. She would be. If only it hadn't taken his sacrifice to make this change.

"Go on," the cat urged her. "Go quickly."

Tohru braced herself and then edged forward again; the light that radiated from her bounced off all the walls, as if she were a living candle, and finally brought to light the solid black before her. Tohru gasped, but not in fear. The shape in front of her was not terrible or frightening, though it was immense. A giant, knotted tangle of cords. Scarlet ropes, like the one she held in her hands, giving way to braided rope, to black decaying strands. They gnarled and curved and twisted every which way, stretching out across the bit of floor that was still visible. Tohru took a step toward it, unsure if this was really right, but then the bulging mass shifted at hearing her and she found herself trembling in pity before it. Had no one ever taken off the rope of the previous binding? Had all the other cats come in, tied their new cord over the old ones, and left? No wonder the spirit had stopped resisting new bonds. It probably couldn't even tell.

"What are you waiting for?" The cat asked. "You can't linger here."

"But," Tohru said. "I can't leave it like this. Can't we untie the old cords?"

"That would take longer than you have," the cat answered, not unkindly. "And I see that you don't have the knife."

"Knife?" Tohru asked, wishing that she did have it.

"The ceremonial knife," the cat clarified. "Normally, those who come here have carried it along with the cord."

"The others? They could have broken the old bonds."

"Tohru, they were all young. They were all frightened." If Tohru had been in her body, there would have been tears on her face. She thought of Kyo, how she had been told that he had been barely old enough to walk when he had taken this burden on himself. Had he been in this cage? Had the cat helped him to tie the seal that time? Had he cried? And what about his bond? Was it also still secured to him even now that he was here?

"If I were the onryou," she said, "I would do everything I could to break the bond and bring someone else here who could release me."

"You can't release it, Tohru," the cat began to explain, but she was done discussing it. He'd said she didn't have much time, so she had better get started. She took hold of the closest bond, ripping at it with her hands, finding it to be much stronger than it looked. The cat was speaking behind her, but she had stopped listening. Instead, she took the length of red cord she had found herself here with and used it as a saw. It only took a couple of times before a rope suddenly sprang free. She hurriedly began on another. It too snapped. Purposefully, she flung herself against the creature's side, digging in to the cords with both hands and yanking as hard as she could.

She hadn't been working long before something burned her arm. She shrieked and dropped to the floor amid the tangle of freed ropes. She put her hand over her arm, trembling inside at how much damage must have been inflicted by whatever had touched her. But when she turned her head to look, she was surprised to see just her unmarked skin, pulsing with golden light. No cut, no burn, nothing to indicate injury of any kind. Yet it had hurt.

"You see," the cat spirit said, grabbing up the scarlet cord in his teeth and dropping it again on her lap. "You can't free it. Please seal the bond and go back."

"What was that?" Tohru asked instead, looking up to where she had been working. The whole mass was wriggling now, as if the cords were boiling. She stood up, shakily, returning to where she had been and checking the area for something sharp, for something hot, for anything at all. It was hard to see through the mass of ropes and the constant movement, but just as Tohru bent to retrieve the cord she saw something. Surely not what had hurt her, but it was not another cord. She pulled aside the bonds, trying to glimpse what she had thought she'd seen.

"There was a hand," she said, unnerved. "There's a hand in here." With the efforts of her pulling ropes free and the effort of the hand stretching out, she soon had it in full view. The fingers reached imploringly from the pressing forest of bonds, and Tohru instinctively reached out to it.

She clasped the hand and drowned in pain. Images blasted through her with hurricane force. She saw an entire lifetime of neglect and ridicule. She saw adults walking past a cage with eyes downcast and rushed footsteps. She heard sticks beating on the bars and hissing from all sides. She saw her own hand offering a small sweet cake to a boy, hurt and longing and sadness bursting in her chest when he refused her. The ceremonial bowl and candle to transfer the bond, then darkness, then nothing until her own memories came back to her again and she found herself releasing the hand that was now no longer unknown to her.

She looked first to the cat spirit. "Are they all here?" She asked, softly.

"Every one," the cat said, with sorrow. "We are all tied here." Tohru contemplated the writhing mass in front of her. The hand still stuck out awkwardly, fingers stretched out.

"You can't want this," Tohru denied, shaking her head, picking up her cord to start again on the ropes. "How can you tell me to stop? How can you want to leave things like this?"

"Because it is safe," the cat answered. And Tohru saw herself in her old apartment, hiding under blankets, pushing her hands against her ears in the night, saw her hands chopping vegetables at the restaurant where she used to work, felt the bar of the bridge railing under her chest. She had been safe then, more safe than when she had lived with the Sohmas, and still.

"That's not good enough," she said. She renewed her efforts against the bonds, starting with the one hand she could see. She pulled and cut where she needed to and soon a man with brown eyes and red hair toppled from his bonds and onto the floor in front of her. She hurried to help him up, feeling his pain again when she touched him as a tightness in her heart and a lump in her throat. Apparently memories weren't quite so debilitating after the first contact.

"T. . thank you," the man stuttered, staring up at where he had been, seeing his prison from the outside.

"Help me," Tohru responded, handing him a piece of cord that she had already severed. For a moment, he simply stood, paralyzed by the immensity of the task. Tohru paused.

"One at a time," she told him, then demonstrated how she had been able to free him. "Like this." The freed cat host nodded slowly to himself and joined her. Meanwhile, the cat spirit watched, uncomprehending the compassion he was witnessing for the first time since being caged. No one had ever questioned him before. No one had thought to save the cats that had come before them. It had never occurred to them that tying the bond would mean that they would come to join the others after their deaths. They were all too eager to be done with their task and back where they had come from. He began to wonder as he watched the girl who should be his new host and the man who had been his host two generations ago, if things couldn't change. If things couldn't be better.

But then he remembered what rested under the tangle and he hid his head under his paws.

It didn't take long for Yuki and Akito to cross the grounds. The other Sohma spirits, the ones who had run out with them from the dismal banquet hall, were nowhere in sight.

"Where did they go?" Yuki thought out loud. "Why is this place exactly the same as the other one? I thought, I don't know, that it would be different after you die."

"It is," Akito said, keeping pace with Yuki, violence in his expression. "But not for Sohmas. This is the prison created by the curse; it's the same because we are trapped. The spirits you freed have moved on to another place."

"And you?"

"I'll go when I'm done with that thing." And even though his tone turned Yuki cold, he couldn't help wondering if he were telling the truth. Now that he had seen into his head, Yuki knew that for Akito, there was no worse hell than solitude. To Akito, living outside the confines of the curse was his deepest fear, that he thought he had no value if he weren't keeping the responsibility of the bond. And that even though he said he hated it more than anyone could imagine, what he hated more was the thought that it would be taken from him. Yuki didn't respond. Even when you knew someone's feelings as if they were your own, it probably wouldn't work to convince Akito that he was lying to himself. Besides, hadn't Yuki done the very same thing?

The neko room in reality was a small, peaceful looking enclosure. The bamboo slats were bright and living vines twined around them. The area around it was well groomed, and to a passerby who did not know its true purpose, it could easily be mistaken as a unique teahouse.

The neko room of this reality festered in its spot. Covered in tangled, dead debris, it sucked light into itself and drowned it. Yuki expected nothing less. He made quick work with the knife, hacking a way through the slats so he and Akito could enter. Surprisingly, once past the opening the neko room expanded in darkness, as if there were an entire universe inside the tiny enclosure. The darkness was solid, and the only light came from Yuki's veins. He paused to check them, seeing the tiny thread of black was now a narrow ribbon. He was running out of time.

"Let's go," he said, surprised that he wanted Akito with him. All the times when he had been forced into his company and he had wished that he could be anywhere else, provided that Akito not be there, now he didn't want to be alone. He had a tiny moment's regret where he wondered how things could have been different if he had understood Akito then as he did now. Then he wondered if Akito thought the same way. Then he decided that it no longer mattered. He met Akito's eyes, it was becoming easier all the time, and they nodded to each other.

They pushed back the darkness together, and it wasn't long until they could hear something. A rustling as of dead leaves and a hum of energy and every once in a while a cry or a scream. As they went on, another golden form flickered into tiny existence. Yuki strained his eyes to make it out, hurrying forward without realizing that his steps had speeded up. The light brightened, the glow growing and shaping into a figure Yuki knew well. Tohru.

Her back was to him as she worked, sawing and untangling a huge mess of ropes. She was clothed in white and golden lines ran all through her, like his own, now and again darkening as the bond between her spirit and her body weakened. She wasn't alone. She had an entire colony of people around her, all engaged in unknotting the cords. All of her helpers had the tell-tale bright hair of cat hosts. He watched, curious, as she suddenly stiffened, but it soon made sense when she pulled another lost cat from the tangle. She knelt at the freed cat's side, putting her arms around the trembling shoulders, putting a piece of rope into questioning hands and pointing behind her to the others who were working.

"Tohru," he called her, making her aware of his presence. She paused only briefly in her work to glance behind her, but when she recognized Yuki, she hurried to his side.

"You have the knife!" She cried, jubilantly. "Now it will be faster. Come help us."

"What are you doing?" Akito asked her, and it was clear from her startled reaction that she had not seen him standing next to Yuki.

"Akito," she squeaked, frightened, and Yuki stepped between them.

"It's fine," he said.

"It's not," she responded, staring at the former Sohma leader. "I'm so sorry," she apologized to him, bowing deeply. "I didn't mean for you to die. I only wanted to save him." She stopped, staring at the ground. "I still do."

"Is that what you think you're doing?" Akito asked, incensed. "You're supposed to seal the bond and then keep it. And you," Akito turned to Yuki, "That's why you're here. Because you were going to take Kyo's place instead of mine. That isn't how it works."

"He's right," chimed in the cat spirit, suddenly at their feet. "This isn't how it's done."

"But it isn't working," Tohru broke in, as angry as Yuki had ever seen her. "This isn't right. Look at what you've done here! All those people," she choked as emotion overtook her. "And Kyo." She fixed her gaze on Yuki, the one person sure to understand her point. "We have to save them."

"Save them?" Akito squawked.

"Then why are you here?" She asked. "Yuki? Why did you come?"

"We're here to kill the onryou," Akito again answered a question that had been asked to Yuki.

"Kill it?" Tohru asked in a high-pitched voice of disbelief. She gestured behind her. "You can't even see it! And what right do we have to kill it anyway?"

"How can you even ask that after all it's done to us?" Akito yelled, and Yuki thought to step between them again.

"Everyone's been hurt," Tohru countered, stepping close to Akito. "Just touch them! Touch Yuki. Every single one has been hurt, and I bet, once we do find the onryou under all of that hate, that it won't be any different. Haven't you ever hurt anyone, Akito, just because you were hurt first?"

The fight went out of Akito when Tohru invited him to touch Yuki, and Yuki could tell that he was remembering whatever he had seen upon their contact. He stood still as Tohru finished, but didn't seem ready to follow any other plan but the one that had brought him here.

"We're wasting time," Yuki interrupted. "Tohru has a point. First we need to help her untangle the cords. Then we can decide what to do with the onryou." He looked at Akito. "You can do what you want." He turned to Tohru. "Let's free them," he said and a smile lit her face so much that he was sure the golden light surged brighter for a moment. She hurried back to her small cat army, and Yuki joined their ranks, a lone rat. He had only cut a few of the bonds before another pair of hands appeared at his side. He turned his head slightly to acknowledge Akito, who worked jerkily and kept his mouth tightly set in a firm line.

It was Akito who touched him first. Yuki saw his entire body snap tight in spasm and his mouth open without sound, eyes staring at a lifetime that he was now sharing that was not his. And like with Yuki, he fell after it was over, holding his head tightly with both hands and bending over his knees. After their encounter with the spirits in the banquet hall, Yuki had formed a theory about the amount of pain created by touching souls. He'd noticed that just touching someone he didn't know hurt less than touching someone he did. From Akito's reaction, whoever was located there in the knots, was someone familiar. And the only cat that Akito knew . . .

Yuki rushed over where Akito still knelt on the floor, ignoring him for the moment. He took his knife and cut as carefully and quickly as possible until he was looking at Kyo's face. His eyes were closed, and he hung limp and lifeless in the tangle. Yuki didn't know if he were happy to see him for Tohru's sake or his own, but either way, he lifted his knife again in eagerness.

"Kyo," he called as he worked. "Kyo, we're here." At his voice, Kyo opened his eyes, then groaned.

"Not you," he sighed, turning his head away. Yuki hesitated. He'd reached the point where he would have to touch him to free him. He thought of Akito on the floor, thought of how he had remembered every hurt he had caused the Sohma leader. He knew that touching Kyo, his rival and lifelong enemy, would be excruciating.

But then he saw it. It was just a glimpse at Kyo's throat for a tiny second. When he'd turned his head, just barely, there had been a little flash of gold. Before thinking anything else, Yuki grabbed on to Kyo, and they locked their eyes together. Kyo's widened alarmingly, and Yuki held on tighter, allowing himself to feel every hurt that he had ever caused his cousin. Every taunt and insult, every time he had not acknowledged that he had even heard him speaking. He tried to hold tighter, wanting to take it all back. Not just share the pain that was already there, but take it back. Those times that he'd hit Kyo harder than necessary, on purpose, just because he was actually angry at himself. Those times that he'd acted out in anger when he was truly just feeling petty and jealous. All those times he had hurt Kyo; he wanted them all back.

Suddenly, Yuki found that even though he was still holding on to Kyo, the pain was less than it had been a minute ago. He could think beyond it, unlike how it had been with Akito. He tried to think of the time when he had first admired Kyo now, how he had always liked the color of his hair, his easy social skill, his dedication, his self-awareness. The pain faded into a faint tightness, rather like the soreness of a muscle after hard use, and Yuki was free to cut the final bonds. Kyo was no longer connected to the onryou, to the cat, to anything, and consequently, he dropped into his arms, and Yuki saw it again, brighter this time. A thread of gold running down Kyo's neck.

"Tohru," Yuki called, wanting to give her this more than anything else in the world. Wanting to reunite her with Kyo and the hope that he had just seen. "We found Kyo."

From around the buzz of cats working on the shrinking bundle of cords, Tohru came at a dead run. She stopped short in front of them, staring at Kyo and Yuki, her lips trembling and her eyes wide and bright. Kyo pushed himself away from Yuki to stand on his own, staring at Tohru as if he were seeing her for the first time, or the last.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, softly, as if they were alone, as if he couldn't see all the other red-haired inhabitants of the prison, as if Yuki had never been there.

"Saving you," Tohru answered and reached forward to take his hand. Yuki watched closely as they connected, seeing how the golden pulse of Tohru's fingers seemed to flow into Kyo's, making it brighter. Enough for Tohru to notice. "Kyo," she said. "You're still alive." She turned suddenly to Yuki. "He's not dead," she said, excited. She put her palm over Kyo's neck, as if she could feel the warmth of his life. "You're not dead," she repeated. Kyo didn't seem to know what to do with this information. He simply stared at Tohru, then down at himself, then back to Tohru again.

They might have stayed that way forever, but there came a cry from the bundle of cat hosts that took their attention. There were so many of them now, standing in groups, those that were just freed still on their knees, dazed on the floor. They had stopped working, the giant mass of cords in ripped tatters around their ankles, finally unknotted. The Original Sohma stood against them all, and in his hands he held tight to the first bond, which curled around the arms, legs, throat, chest, and waist of the onryou spirit. The cat neatly dodged through and also stood at his feet.

"Hatori!"

The dragon jerked awake from his place of vigil at Yuki and Tohru's bedside. He looked quickly at their faces first, registering that there was still no change. When he raised his head, he saw Haru and Momiji sleeping sitting up, back to back. The girl, Miki, also slept stretched out on the floor beside Yuki, her hand covering his. Shigure stood by the window, squinting into the darkness. The rain still pounded outside, and he started to wonder if it had just been a thunderbolt that had startled him awake.

But then Kazuma came crashing into the house, scattering raindrops in every direction in his haste. "Hatori!" He yelled again, and all the household jumped at the excited, frightened tone of his call. Hatori stood to meet him and saw that he was carrying something.

"What is it?" Hatori asked, coming forward as the other occupants of his house tried to shake off sleep enough to register what was going on. Kazuma, seemingly overcome, knelt there on the floor of the entryway and deposited his burden. Hatori gaped as he recognized the still figure.

"It's Kyo," Kazuma said, an effort in his voice to keep himself calm, to keep himself from hoping too hard.

"That's impossible," Hatori answered, even as he knelt next to his cousin, seeing for himself the familiar red hair, the still-broken nose, the sharp features.

"He just changed back. Is that normal?" Kazuma asked, intent.

"No," Hatori whispered, feeling his other family members creeping up behind him to see what was going on. "No, once the bond is broken, the physical form is lost." Hatori reached out to check Kyo, to touch his hand. He felt at his wrist, then at his throat, wondering now more than ever what was going on.

"Hatori?" Kazuma said, unable to stand waiting, wanting to believe more than anything in something that should not be possible. Hatori lifted his eyes to Kazuma's eager expression.

"I've got a heartbeat," Hatori confirmed.


	17. Waiting in the Dark

Author's Note: Hi there. Honestly, I'm just as surprised as you that this is taking so long. And I'm doubly surprised that I can't ever seem to finish. This was, you may remember, supposed to be the last chapter. And I'm agonized to say that it isn't. But before you roll your eyes, there is some good news. The final chapter has already been written, oh yes, no six-month wait for you ever again. It's written, and I will post it in 24 short hours. In the meantime, here's an extra-long next-to-last chapter for you to read – maybe even review.

Chapter Seventeen: Waiting in the Dark

An uneasy silence pounded in Yuki's ears as he considered the scene before him. The onryou spirit, as ugly and deformed as its physical manifestation, crouched beside the first Sohma host, who clung to its bond with both hands. Neither of them moved or lifted their eyes from the floor. They could have been statues. The orange cat spirit sat stiffly at their feet, staring at Tohru, resigned. All the generations of Sohma cat hosts stood in uncertainty, huddled in small groups encircling the onryou as well as Tohru, Kyo, Akito, and Yuki, some shuffling their feet as if they felt that they should be going somewhere now that they were free, and yet they didn't have any knowledge or desire to do so. Yuki kept turning his head as if he were trying to see everyone all at once. What happened now?

"There," the cat huffed. "You've done it. Now set your bond and leave."

"I thought you would be different," Tohru revealed, ignoring the cat, speaking only to the onryou, her voice unsettling, unsure. "I thought your spirit would be –"

"Would be what?" Akito spat, his voice harsh in the quiet. Yuki whipped his head to find that he stood just slightly behind him, folding his arms and glaring with the superior smirk that used to annoy Yuki. How many times had he imagined striking it from his mouth? And yet now, now that he'd seen everything there was to see about Akito, he knew what it meant and it just made him sad. "After all that murder and darkness you thought that thing would be what? Beautiful? Human?" The freed cats shifted at this sharp comment, murmuring to themselves. Did they know something? Yuki studied the onryou. It had yet to move. Why couldn't it have been human once? "We should kill it. End the curse. It's what you always wanted. It's what you said you would do for us all along."

"Stop it, Akito," Yuki cut in, gently firm, seeing how his words affected Tohru. How she stood with fists clenched, ashamed at her failure, sad for their situation, desperately wanting two very different things. Kyo kept his hand on her shoulder, waiting for her guidance, ready to believe in her decision. Yuki admired his faith, but he was not willing to hide behind Tohru anymore. Even though he was proud of how she had freed the cats, happy that she could be reunited with Kyo, he still wasn't pleased at what she had done to get herself trapped here with him.

"I don't want anyone else to die," Tohru wished aloud, still speaking to the onryou who had yet to acknowledge her. "I don't want to kill you," she confessed. "But I don't want you to hurt anyone either."

"Tohru," the cat interrupted in a weary tone.

"I know that this isn't the way it's done," she retorted before he could begin. "But I don't see why I can't change it."

"How?" Akito challenged, and Tohru just shrugged.

"I don't know," she said, her posture crumpling inward. Her hands still rested at her sides loosely, but her shoulders cringed and her head hung low. Kyo swept her hair back from where it had fallen into her face and leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"I do," Akito huffed, a looming dark force with haunting eyes, the black streaks of his old bloodlines standing out drastically in the golden glow of the still living companions. His voice had been pitched low, only Yuki hearing him. He turned to give him his attention, ready to hear a plan, but without warning, Akito snatched at Yuki's wrist. Even though the pain was debilitating for both of them, just as it had been before, Akito had been expecting it and used the surprise to snatch the knife from Yuki's grip. Akito yanked himself backward while Yuki forced his knees not to buckle. The cats roared in protest, and Yuki flung himself after Akito, who had recovered much faster and was already moving. Tohru screamed, and Kyo stiffened in a protective grasp to keep her out of the way.

Akito's attack was thwarted in a matter of seconds. The Original Sohma, the warrior, immediately placed himself as a barrier between the former clan leader and the monster, and Yuki joined him a moment later. He wasn't entirely convinced that killing the onryou wasn't the best plan, but he wasn't quite ready to have anyone act on it. The cat hosts surrounded Akito in a swarm, grabbing to his wrists, his waist, wrapping themselves around his knees. The sound of screams and shouts bubbled around them in a panicked gush, then pricked out again instantly.

All motion ceased almost as soon as it had started, and a moment of calm followed the moment of urgency. The cats slowly loosed their hold on Akito, allowing him to drop to his hands and knees on the floor, recovering from the pain of so much contact all at once, some raising their arms, cradling their hands to their chests. Tohru made to move forward, but Kyo kept a tight hold on her, not ready to allow her near when there still could be danger. Yuki ducked down to snatch the knife off the floor where Akito had been forced to drop it and then swept his gaze to the tall man next to him, the First Sohma, who stood in resolute calm, looking down at the bond he still held in both hands that had been cut cleanly free.

"Kill it, Yuki," Akito begged, panting on the floor. "Quickly."

Yuki looked over his shoulder to consider the monster, and had to leap backward immediately to get out of the way as it lifted one massive arm and slammed it into the Original Sohma, knocking him into a horde of cats who just managed to catch him before they all landed in a tangled heap. The bond cord fell useless to the floor. Akito hadn't managed to kill the onryou, but in his mad dash, he had managed to free it.

His first cowardly instinct was to run, get as far away from it as possible. Some of the cats followed his instinct, rushing out of the neko room at a dead sprint. But then he saw Kyo shielding Tohru, looking at him determinedly. He nodded to him. There was nowhere to run. This was the reason they were here. Yuki tightened his hold of the knife, preparing to drive it into the monster's heart for a second time. For Tohru. For Miki. For everyone.

The last time he had done this, the creature had come to him. It had wanted to be killed. But now, it hissed at him, revealing its teeth, backing up with tight precise movements, circling out and away from Yuki. If he'd had any doubt before, he knew now that spirits could be destroyed, and his knife could cut into whatever material made up a soul just as easily as it had cut through the sealing bonds. He advanced.

Some of the braver cats came to his aid, lunging toward the onryou and latching themselves to it, trying to hold it down so Yuki could act on Akito's plea. They wrapped themselves around its legs, pounced on its back, and pulled at its arms. And every single one of them held on for barely a second before pulling back and falling to the floor. The creature shook them off, still circling, and Yuki realized suddenly that it wasn't so much trying to get away from him as it was trying to reach the area where Kyo protected Tohru.

"No, you don't," Yuki whispered, and rushed ahead, no longer circling but headed straight towards the monster. He held the knife out, ready to do whatever he had to in order to keep it away from them. While Kyo pushed Tohru backward, keeping his body between hers and the onryou's, Yuki darted between them, both hands holding the hilt.

But the onryou was no longer willing to waste time on things in its way. Violently, it sank the claws of one hand into Yuki's shoulder and dragged him to the side. Flicking him off and speeding his pursuit. Yuki took only a moment to register that the claws had caused him an actual wound, that bright golden liquid flowed from where he'd been cut and the black of his veins broadened. He righted himself and rushed forward again.

"Get her away," he yelled to Kyo as he fought his way between them again. "Take her home." He immediately heard Tohru's protests, and knew that Kyo was now forcing her out of the neko room. The onryou screamed and made to leap after them, but Yuki was in position now and ready for it. He aimed a strike, but when he lunged to drive it home, he was thrown off course by the creature's shoulder as it ran past him without notice, intent on Tohru and Kyo.

Yuki used the momentum to pivot and jump on the onryou's back as it ran, feeling as though he were being scalded where ever he touched its skin. He didn't have a good hold, and felt himself start to fall as soon as he'd landed, so he dug in the blade as far as it would go and kept hold as he fell, ripping the creature's back open. It screamed again and slowed only slightly. Yuki used the pause to attack again at its heart. But instead of merely pushing him out of the way, this time the monster planted its claws right against his chest and drove him against the floor. It huffed in his face, and Tohru screamed.

And then it hit him. An ocean of sound and sensation crashed into him, causing everything around him to disappear under the shockwave. He was alone and engulfed completely.

The careless way he had grabbed Akito's wrist had been agony, the moment Kyo dropped into his arms had been painful, and the burning he had felt in those brief moments of contact with the onryou were also distressing, but this. This soul carried generations of torture, and Yuki knew that he would tear apart. The suffering, even in echo, would be fatal. How could it not be? There was nothing to cling to, no outside remnant on which to focus. There was nothing but blinding, suffocating, searing, bruising anguish. He sank through layers of it, past centuries of death, fleeing from host to host, moments of rage and insanity. Brooding decades of self-loathing, loss, cringing emptiness. It was all encompassing and all too familiar. He saw the rise and fall of companionships, uneasy alliances, pleas for mercy, for death, for deliverance. He saw sunlight through the bars of the neko room, felt wind roaring defiance through his brain, and at last fell through to the center of the abyss, into a pit of lonely, unnecessary solitude. And here, he knew, he would die.

"Yuki," Tohru wept, calling his name through the void, and he turned from it. There was no return from this. He would stay in the black forever, unneeded, afraid, hopeless. He sent a last wish to Kyo to remove Tohru from the creature's grasp, get her to where it could not touch her and ruin her forever. No wonder the cats had let go their hold so quickly.

Blackness roared over him, bleeding out his veins, stealing his life. He welcomed it. Anything to stop this. Anything that would release him from the creature's soul. He relaxed into the dark, ready to disappear.

"Get off of him!" The demand shattered the blackness, and the monster's weight rolled from Yuki. His vision returned in a golden burst, but he stayed where he was, where he'd been forced to the floor, his spirit tingling with the aftermath of the contact. The onryou hissed again, and a scream echoed it, followed by a sob. He needed to move, to take advantage of this moment.

With the greatest effort, Yuki rolled to his side, looking in the direction of the sound. Akito clung to the creature's neck, both of them on their knees, shaking. Yuki found he amazingly still held the knife, and he tried to drag his limbs into position so he could stand up, noticing the ratio of gold and back barber-poling down the backs of his hands. There wasn't much time left if he wanted to return to his body.

"Yuki," Tohru called again, her voice sick and worried. She clung to Kyo in fright, but when he lifted his eyes to acknowledge her, they both began to move toward him, intent on helping him to his feet.

"Don't touch me," Yuki begged her, not wanting anything to touch him ever again. She clamped her mouth tightly closed and simply nodded. Determinedly, he staggered upright, moving painfully closer to where Akito held the monster still. How could he be doing that? For so long? And had he really saved Yuki's life? Akito? The oldest nightmare of Yuki's childhood suddenly turned savior?

He tightened his resolve, knowing that Akito probably couldn't move away. That he'd been immobilized as though a live electrical wire had seized him. He'd have to be pulled away before he could think clearly again. Yuki would have to step in.

Akito and the onryou didn't move as Yuki closed the distance to them. They knelt with their foreheads together; Akito's arms tightly clamped around the monster's neck. He couldn't want for a better opportunity, and yet when he had reached the point where he could use his knife, Akito held out one hand against him, pulling his final attack up short.

"Leave her alone," he whispered in a voice tight with emotion.

"What are you talking about? Her." Yuki demanded, his world spinning as too many different ideas tried to fight their way around his mind for his attention. Akito as his guardian. Akito as a protector. Akito trying to protect something from him that he had already asked him to murder. A creature that hurled itself into death and then cringed away from it. And why had it gone after Tohru? "A minute ago you were begging me to kill it and free us all."

"Do as he says," the Original Sohma commanded, his voice deep and full of authority, despite the fact that he knelt in the midst of the group of cat hosts who had caught him from the onryou's previous attack. "Leave them alone."

"What's going on?" Tohru asked the question aloud that Yuki was screaming in a frustrated loop in his head. Everything was so still, so suddenly, and here he was standing with a knife and a determination to finally be the hero that everyone had expected him to be, and now he was told to stand down, to stop, with no further talk of a solution to the obvious problem that knelt on the floor in front of him, contained by Akito's arms locked around its neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he made out Tohru, timidly, but with too much curiosity to contain, creeping forward with Kyo, their hands locked together and glowing brightly where they touched. It made him flinch inside to see them.

"What happened," Yuki raged, gesturing to Akito and the monster. "How is he doing that?" Then he swept his arm, using the knife to also point at Kyo and Tohru. "How do you do that?" Tohru looked at him in sad confusion, though Kyo's expression wasn't as gentle. It filled him with inexplicable fear and loneliness. He turned to take all the scenes in again. The ancient Sohma warrior supported by cat hosts, Tohru and Kyo, who had not stopped touching each other since their reunion, and now Akito, the worst of all, holding the creature, not in a locking, restricting manner, but in a gesture of comfort. How could they possibly be doing this? How was Akito not being ripped apart by the pain? How could Tohru not be screaming? Why was he the only one who couldn't bear the thought of contact ever again?

"Do what, Yuki?" Tohru asked, unaware of his suffering.

"That," Yuki stuttered helplessly, waving his hand at her interlocked fingers. "How can you stand to touch each other like that?" He whirled around to Akito who he had seen drop to the ground after touching not just Kyo but Yuki himself. "Especially you. I don't understand. How is it not killing you?" As he spoke, he walked towards Akito, as if the answer could be seen instead of explained. But as he neared, the creature jerked its head free of Akito's hands and snapped its jaws at him, growling with the sound of metal sparking together.

"Stay away from her, I said," Akito snapped, jerking upright to stand between them, placing a calming hand on the monster's head. Yuki backed up slightly, defeated.

"Yuki," Tohru broke in, startlingly close. "Kyo's pain has always been mine. It's not that it doesn't hurt to touch him, but it hurts more not to."

He thought back to the first time he had made contact with another spirit in this place. He had grabbed Akito's wrist, had witnessed his pain first hand, had understood him on a level that had been impossible while they had both been alive and in their proper bodies. And he remembered briefly how he had wanted, for a brief time, to touch him again despite the hurt. He thought how it had allowed them afterward to work together, how they had understood each other for the first time in their lives. How Akito had done the first spontaneous, selfless, brave thing in saving Yuki from the onryou because of what they had seen in each other's souls. But even knowing this, how could Akito be with the onryou when it had overwhelmed Yuki to the point of death?

"It's because you're the same," he answered himself out loud in a voice softened with revelation.

"Yuki?" Tohru questioned, but he was nodding, piecing it together and talking it out instead of answering her.

"You were right, Tohru," he explained. "How many times have we hurt someone just because we were hurt first?" Akito, he knew, lashed out from an overwhelming lonely grief. He kept the Juunishi so close, wanted them with him at every possible opportunity, to the point that he didn't allow to them to marry or live too far from the Main House. And when they rebelled, his jealousy and abandonment turned to rage, because anger, he remembered Tohru saying, is the easiest emotion, the one that causes the least pain. And when you've done that for so long, it's hard to remember to be gentle, to show emotion and affection in appropriate manners. And eventually, if it went on long enough, a soul could twist into an onryou.

"So let's stop it," Tohru offered, gently taking the knife from his hand without touching him. She knelt next to the cat, who trembled close to the Original Sohma, apparently overwhelmed and baffled by the events from start to present. He didn't run from her, but he did tense, unsure. But Tohru put her hand on his back, petting him absently as she slid the knife under the tight cord around his neck, slashing it free. "We don't need these anymore."

"But where will I go?" The cat whimpered. "The others. What will they do after what I have done?"

"Stay with us," the first man Tohru had freed from the giant knot spoke up, striding forward with a kind smile and open arms. "We've been together so long, I don't think I know how to be without you. Without any of you," he clarified, turning his head to include all the souls surrounding him, earning many smiles and nods of agreement. "We may be outcasts," he continued, "but being with you feels more like being a family to me. I hope you are willing to stay."

"And you," another cat host addressed Akito. "You may also join us."

"Ha," Akito huffed, his nose automatically wrinkling in distaste, but Yuki could see through it and hoped the others could too. The onryou nudged his side like some huge and hideous pet, and he leaned into it, visibly softening. Yuki could practically hear his thoughts, how shocked he was to learn that as much as he said that he hated the cats, hated the monster for taking his freedom and his life away, he hadn't really meant it. That what he'd really hated was how all the Juunishi had hated the curse, had wanted to be free of it to live normal lives, how they wanted to leave him. How frightened he was of that actually happening. How terrified he'd been that someday the curse would break and then he would find out that none of his family loved him at all, that they only stayed with him because of his protection. His greatest fear.

"Akito," Yuki began, ready to help him make sense of his own feelings if he had to, but Akito waved him off.

"I suppose I'll have to," he said carelessly. "You'll need me to hold the onryou's bond now."

The bond! Yuki had forgotten all about it. Tohru still had it, the original mission of coming here. She had never sealed it as she should. That's why the creature had gone after her, that's why it had reacted so violently when it had been set free. Not because it had been waiting for its chance for vengeance – it had been frightened of its freedom and wanted its prison back, just as it had when it had come to Yuki to be killed. The way that Akito also wanted to be tied to the curse.

Tohru handed the piece of scarlet to Akito. "If you think you'll really need it," she said. "But I think the strongest bonds are the ones that we make ourselves. The ones we can't see."

"Akito," Yuki said again, and this time he was acknowledged. "Thank you," he said sincerely, making the previous Sohma leader smile awkwardly.

"You should go," was the response. Yuki looked at his hands, shocked to find his veins almost completely black. He checked Tohru and Kyo in alarm. Kyo seemed to have absorbed some of Tohru's light, their lines of gold running through them in identical patterns.

"But how do we get back?" Tohru asked.

"Retrace your steps," the old Sohma warrior answered. "You'll find your way."

Kyo and Tohru immediately started forward, hands still entwined, heading for the door that would lead them out of the neko room. Yuki remained, watching Akito and the onryou. Had they really done it? Were they really safe? The monster that had haunted entire generations of his family could really be tamed by the presence of a kindred spirit?

"Go Yuki," Akito said. A burning pain lit up from his fingertips, and he ripped his hand free, wrenching his head around to find Tohru, guiltily pulling back. Once she had his eyes, she offered her hand again. Kyo stood at the door, waiting with an impatient expression on his face.

"Come on," she encouraged, and he took her hand. She whimpered, but smiled, and tugged him forward. He felt the pain, but didn't mind it. Not Tohru's pain. He would take all of it for her sake. Kyo ushered them out the door and immediately all three of them were engulfed in an almost tangible blackness.

The sensation grew, as if he were waking from a deep sleep, or falling quietly asleep into a dream. Darkness poured in at all sides, and he tightened his grip on Tohru's hand, needing to keep his connection to her warmth despite the agony of the contact. But suddenly, the hand was gone, twisted from him and disappeared in an instant.

"Mom?" He heard her call from the blackness and turned toward the sound. He fumbled for her again, but could not see any sign of her fading golden pulse. He felt himself being pulled, poured out from this world and into the one he had left. And he was going alone.

"Tohru!" He yelled into the nothing, right before a heaviness crashed on top of him.

Just as when he had awakened in the spirit realm, the sensations were overpowering. The lights behind his eyelids were far too bright. The weight of his ribs as he pulled in air to fill his lungs seemed extreme. He could feel every rough woven fiber in the blanket that covered him. He'd never felt so much as though he'd been cast into an iron prison than the moment he became aware that his spirit had returned to the trap of his own body. He entertained one fleeting thought that returning might have been a mistake, especially if Tohru hadn't returned with them, if it was too late for her to ever return.

"He moved," were the first words he could discern, but the source sounded as though it were coming from another room. He twitched his fingers, as if he were still reaching for Tohru, and felt someone cling to him in response. He gripped the hand tightly, knowing it wasn't Tohru but needing the touch to help anchor himself back into his body. Let himself feel that even though it was heavy and cumbersome, it was still his, and he was capable of controlling it.

Yuki used his grip on the mysterious hand to pull himself upright. For one moment, he registered Miki kneeling beside him, her face beautiful in relief. He stared at her, feeling himself come awake, a numbness leaving him very slowly. She was still by his side? Smiling at him? The numbness thawed into a warm feeling spreading from the center of his chest and down to where their fingerless connected, a painless, comforting contact. He was holding Miki's hand, and it didn't hurt. He couldn't see into her memories, but he felt close to her anyway.

"Yuki," Miki began, but Yuki didn't hear if she said anything else. Behind her shoulder, he could make out Tohru's still form bundled under blankets. Her face was pale, her lips losing color. She had no ministering aide at her side. Her body, vacant, lay unattended. He looked at Miki's hand in his again and remembered Tohru pulling herself away at the very last moment. He heard her questioningly call to her mother. Her dead mother. The warm feeling vanished, replaced with an urgency that made him breathe too fast. Where had she gone? Would she be able to come back?

"I think he's coming out of it," the voice that he had almost forgotten from the other room continued. "Kyo? Can you hear me?"

Kyo. Hearing his name brought more unbidden images to his mind. Kyo clinging to Tohru in the dark of the spirit realm. Kyo hanging suspended from thousands of cat bonds, tied to all the other hosts and completely defeated. Kyo following closely as they made their way back to their bodies together, keeping his eyes on Tohru. Yuki had been the first to return. If Kyo was stirring and Tohru wasn't, that meant that he didn't know she had gone back. The thought tore him from the floor. He dropped Miki's hand and raced toward the voice, searching through the crouched forms of his family until he saw Kyo lying in their midst. Ignoring the cries of confused delight that he was conscious, he forced his way to Kyo's side.

"Don't come back yet," he shouted, hoping Kyo was still in a position where he could make a choice. "I lost her. She's still there. You have to go back for her."

"Yuki," Hatori called him, and he could feel restraining hands curling around his arms, meaning to pull him away from his cousin. He struggled, but currently he wasn't any kind of match for Shigure and Hatori, who each tugged at him from one side, working together to draw him apart. Hatori immediately scanned him while Shigure held him securely still, searching him for bodily injury. He ignored them as best he could, focusing completely on Kyo.

"Kyo!" Yuki yelled again over their shoulders. "Bring her back!"

"Stop yelling already," Kyo's weak voice silenced the room, not because of what he had said, but that he was speaking at all. His eyes opened, and he began to sit up, assisted by Kazuma, who touched his adopted son with a gentle, apologetic reverence. Yuki sagged against Shigure, knowing that wherever Tohru was, she was there alone. He'd been too late. He felt a timid hand come to rest on his upper arm and recognized Miki's presence. She had followed him, quietly supporting him and patiently waiting for an explanation. But there was too much going on still to give it to her.

"Yuki, what is it?" Hatori asked, taking in his sudden show of weakness and mistakenly assuming that he was in some sort of physical pain.

"It's Tohru," Yuki muttered, shaking his head.

"Where is she?" Kyo asked. Yuki lifted his head enough to lock eyes with his cousin, and suddenly they were the only people in the room. Yuki had not thought that he would ever have to make a confession like this, not to Kyo, who hadn't let go of her for a second, except at the very end when she had exchanged his hand for Yuki's to help him leave the neko room.

"She's still there. I –" He paused to take a breath, unable to maintain eye contact. "I lost her." Then he waited for the rage, waited for Kyo to pound him senseless, and he welcomed the idea. How could he have lost her? In that so important moment, how could she have just twisted from his grip? How could he have let her go?

But Kyo didn't hit him. He did get up, slowly and not without obvious effort. Kazuma assisted him part of the way, but his hands fell to his lap when Kyo stood on his own. His family stared at him, watching him with looks of incredulous awe. The boy who shouldn't even be breathing, standing before them, moving and speaking. His nose was still broken, dark bruises stood out on his wrists from where Kazuma had tried to tie him up, and a bandage at his side where Yuki had stabbed him was slowly darkening with blood now that he was mobile. And yet, he continued to breathe, and they continued to watch in silent amazement as he took a step. There was a collected gasp as he staggered, but no one moved to touch him again. He pushed off his knees to right himself, taking another step, his movements awkward and painful, making his way through the cluster of his assorted cousins into the room Yuki had left.

His strength gave out before he reached her side, but that didn't stop him from crawling and then at last pulling himself across the polished wooden floor to where Tohru still slept under blankets. He found her hand and held it tightly, resting his head against hers, eerily quiet. Yuki pulled away from Shigure, who did not resist the movement. He wanted to join Kyo at Tohru's bedside but found that he didn't dare. Who was he to intrude on such a scene? As Hatori and Kazuma moved forward, he took a step back, curling his hands into fierce, guilty fists.

Hatori knelt across from Kyo on Tohru's other side, checking her weakening vital signs. Kazuma also knelt close to Kyo, putting supportive hands on his shoulder. Neither touch was acknowledged. Yuki watched as the older men exchanged a glance above the couple on the floor, and their expression hit him in the heart just as though he'd been the one stabbed with the ceremonial knife.

"Kyo," Hatori said gently, his voice drained of hope, replaced with sorrowful pity. "I think she might be lost."

"So was I," he said flatly, making them all remember again how just a short time ago no one ever thought that Kyo would survive. But here he sat at Tohru's side, all fiery defiance.

"Kyo," Hatori tried again.

"Wait," came the answer. Kyo's voice held an edge of anger to it, daring anyone to try and explain anything to him that he didn't want to hear. Kazuma squeezed his shoulder, sharing another meaningful look with the dragon. They both nodded solemnly. Then everyone, from their various positions in Hatori's house, settled in to obey Kyo. They took up vigil, keeping their eyes fixed on the still girl in the blankets and the boy who hardly blinked, and together, they all waited.

XXXX

"Mom?" Tohru responded automatically to the voice she imagined had called her name. It had been a passing thought that had grown into a hungry desire ever since she'd seen Akito, had realized that she was speaking to a dead spirit. If Akito were here, then why couldn't her mother also be here? And why couldn't they talk, for just a moment, to say good-bye properly? Releasing Yuki's hand, she turned back to the neko room and the faint call of her name only to find it much further away than could be possible. Hadn't they only taken a few steps? And where were the others? The cat spirits? Akito and the onryou. How could they be gone already?

"Mom," she called again, this time louder. She scanned the shadows of the courtyard, exactly the same as the one she'd left. The Sohma family grounds, except cleaner, not a stray leaf, not a single blade of grass out of place, and everything the nondescript gray of the night just before dawn.

She knew she shouldn't, that she was running out of time, but how could she pass up this kind of opportunity? When wouldn't she risk everything for the chance to have one final moment face-to-face with her mother? To hold each other tightly and know everything at last about each other, to absorb all of her mother's essence she could and preserve it within herself forever. When would she ever have another chance? She listened, listened so hard for another call, for any indication that she was not here alone, but there was nothing, not even her own heartbeat in her ears. She glanced at her hands, at the narrowing slit of gold branching from her wrists and up each finger, and then she began to run.

She ran the same way she had earlier when she'd set off in search of anyone who could help Kyo, a desperate release of energy, a blind hope that she would be taken unconsciously to where she could get what she needed. The dwellings of the Sohma dead spread out in all directions without light or sound, ornamental trees drooped, and even when she ran through straight gravel paths, there was no noise of her footsteps. And everywhere she went, everything the same color gray.

"Mom," she asked every few steps, to the buildings and the trees and the perfect blades of grass. Without her body, she ran quickly, never needing to pause for breath, scanning all the houses for anything that might be familiar. As time went on, as the gold in her veins dwindled, she began to doubt. Maybe this place was just for Sohmas, and her mother was somewhere else, somewhere completely different and as difficult to travel to as another planet. Maybe it had been too long, and her mother had moved on, or even been reborn.

The disappointment slowed her to a miserable walk. Her mother, she decided, could be in any of a thousand places, but she was not here. And now, with Kyo and Yuki gone, Tohru was beginning to wonder if she could ever leave.

"Help us," pleaded a voice, not much louder than the imaginary voice Tohru had thought she heard calling her name. Slight as it was, it was the only sound she had heard in an eternity, and she tuned her direction to it immediately. She crossed a garden and found herself before a large building, several times bigger than the neko room. There was light inside, not much, but enough to make out silhouettes at the doorway. As she drew even closer, she could distinguish hopeful, sorrowing faces and beckoning arms. "Please, help us."

"Who are you?" Tohru asked, walking toward them without hesitation. She had never in her life refused help when it was asked of her, and these people seemed so intent, so lost and needful. "What can I do?"

They parted, allowing her to enter, repeating their entreaty for help without answering her questions. The few standing at the door was just the beginning. The room was filled to bursting with spirits, each dangling a cord from their wrist that braided into a pillar at the center, reminding her strongly of how all the cat hosts had been imprisoned and tied together with ancient sealing bonds. She focused on individuals for a moment instead of treating the horde as one entity and began to make out characteristics that she knew. White and black hair like Hatsuharu's, and practically at her elbow, a tiny girl who looked almost exactly like Kisa. When she saw that Tohru was staring at her, the girl held out her bond cord between her hands and lifted them to Tohru, who reached forward to touch it. At the last second, when she realized what Tohru intended to do, the girl pulled back, shaking her head.

"The knife," the horde cried, several times, in a rapid, overlapping echo. At first Tohru was confused, but when she looked at her hands again, she found she had the hilt in her grasp and remembered that she had taken it from Yuki in the neko room to cut the cat's bond from around his neck. Without another thought, she held it out and the little girl rushed forward to slide her cord against it, freeing herself. Cries went up, urgent, and spirits leaped to their feet to advance on her. In an instant, she could hardly see anyone's face anymore because they had once again turned into a mob without any features or individuality. So many of them. Tohru's heart went out to them all, but she knew it would take far too long to cut them all free one by one. Her eyes went again to the central pillar, where all the cords came together and wrapped themselves into one that ran floor to ceiling.

"I'll help you," she assured them, and they fell quiet, hope and admiration thick in the atmosphere. "Please let me through."

They did as commanded, some with bows, some with their hands outstretched like the little girl's. When she reached the center, a murmuring went up throughout the Sohma banquet hall, as though they were readying themselves to witness a miracle. Tohru hoped their faith would be rewarded, and carefully placed the knife against the side of the pillar. This would not be a simple cut. It would take some time to saw through all of that.

"Pull it tight," instructed a wise female dragon host who stood close to her. "Pull your bonds as tight as you can. Everybody." There was a hum of exertion and the silvery mass in front of her writhed as if it were a living thing. The tension on the cords caused them to spring apart immediately as she pushed the knife against them. From the crowd, cries of delight went up from those spirits who had been freed by the pass of her blade. It encouraged her; she slid the knife again.

Back and forth, and with each pass the noise in the room increased in celebration. Shouts of freedom, cries of relief, sobs of joy. The braided, knotted cords shook as Tohru sped up her work, and she barely noticed when the cries changed from happy to frightened. She looked only at her progress, registering that the silver of the cords brightened as she neared the center, that there was a core of light with twelve bonds shining out intensely. When she touched the knife blade to them, it made a sound like a bow scratched on a violin string.

"Stop immediately!" Boomed a voice so large and empowering that Tohru almost lost her grip on her hilt. Confused, she paused just long enough to glance over her shoulder. Who was it? Who didn't want to be freed? Could she separate that person's bond from the others or should she just continue as if she hadn't understood?

But it was not a person who spoke. Tohru gasped, raising her hand to her mouth, knowing that her eyes had probably doubled in shock. She had expected the cat spirit to be on guard in the neko room, but she had not thought that her slashing through the other bonds would bring the entire zodiac host into the Sohma spirit banquet hall. They stood in a circle around her, and the human souls kept their distance, some looking guilty, others afraid, and all subdued and silent.

"Leave this place," the rat spirit commanded.

"Look at her," said the rabbit spirit with concern. "Look at the black."

"Must have been some fight this time," commented the ox. "For her to be so close to death already."

"Those bonds are our safety," the rat continued. "You cannot cut them. You're meant to be in the neko room."

"I was," Tohru confessed to the tune of surprise. "I did the same thing there. All the bonds are cut."

"You what?" The dragon hissed, and several Sohmas cowered.

"You freed the monster?" The rat accused, and Tohru nodded, trying to smile bravely.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore," she assured, even as they began to panic. But how could she explain to them now that they were too afraid to listen? How could she tell them that the onryou had suffered, that they had all suffered, when they didn't have to? "You don't have to keep doing this. You can let them go." But then she stopped talking, realizing with her last words what they would all do. They would race down the bonds and throw themselves into their living hosts for safety, using her friends as an unnecessary refuge.

Without a pause for a second thought, and with a determined shove, she slashed the live, bright cords that were connecting the Juunishi to the animals around her.

XXX

Momiji cried out suddenly at the same moment as Hatori staggered into his desk and Shigure and Haru stiffened from two separate places across the room. Yuki's knees hit the floor as an unseen power snapped him in two. He trembled, overcome with an inexplicable loneliness, as if part of him had died. Bracing himself on hands and knees, he lifted his head to find Kyo staring at him from Tohru's bedside. All he could do was shake his head, turning his gaze to his relatives who were all in various degrees of shock.

"Everything all right?" Kazuma asked, trying to look at everyone at once, gauging who, if anyone, needed his help first. "What happened?"

"Yuki," Miki drew his attention, but he couldn't hear her clearly. Hatori's phone rang, over and over, four times before he could move enough to answer it.

"Ayame," he acknowledged into the receiver, his voice tense and rattled, so unlike his normal smooth calm. "It woke you up?" He continued speaking to Yuki's older brother, the snake. "We felt it too, I think. Yes, we, Shigure, Haru, Momiji, Yuki, and I. Yes, they're all here. No, not yet, stay where you are. We don't know anything more than you do. No, don't call anyone else until we work it out."

As he spoke, Yuki stayed still, trying to sort out if anything were seriously wrong with him. He felt smaller, empty, and alone. While nothing hurt, he was far from comfortable, and when he noticed arms around his shoulders, hands clasping together at his chest, he instinctively reached up to grasp them in order to ground himself, to remind himself that he was not alone. He was in a room full of people. He was safe, safer than he had been in a long time. But the reasoning wasn't enough, and he turned toward the comforting warmth at his side.

"Yuki, are you ok?"

He hurriedly jerked away as he recognized the voice, right in his ear, leaning away and studying Miki, who now had her arms raised in surrender.

"Sorry," she apologized sadly. "I forgot you don't like being touched."

"It's not that," Yuki said breathlessly, feeling the others' incredulous stares weighing on him from all sides. "I just –" but no explanation came to him. Instead, he reached for her, encircling her wrists in his hands, tugging her arms down and guiding them around his shoulders. He scooted closer to her, sliding his arms around the wide hem of her sweater, gingerly pressing, waiting for the moment when the contact was too much and he would once again be a rat scrambling up her shoulder.

Only this time it didn't come. He pulled her tighter, crossing his arms over her back, feeling the stitch pattern of the sweater, the ridge of her bra clasp. He tucked his chin over her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling her breathe in and out, the steady rhythm of her heart. For a tiny instant, he pulled back so he could look into her face, full of confused concern. It made him laugh, a giddy, unbelieving giggle that lasted only a few seconds. Then he had to test the hug again.

"Wow," he whispered into her hair as the second embrace went as uneventfully as the first.

"Yuki," Shigure said, in awe, and he was aware that the others had come to stand close to him, reminding him humorously of a circling of vultures. Unwillingly, he stood up, helping Miki to her feet as well.

"Can I try?" Momiji asked childishly, and Yuki cautiously tugged her forward and pressed her into the rabbit's arms. She looked at him over her shoulder without speaking as the shorter boy gripped her tightly, murmuring happily and getting tears all over the sweater. Since he didn't know what to say, Yuki just grinned at her and shook his head.

Look," Momiji said, his voice trembling with excitement. Like Yuki, he pulled away from her to inspect her thoroughly, to make sure she was real, that he was here in this moment. "Haru, look."

"I see," Haru acknowledged, shuffling closer every second as if Miki had suddenly become a gravity center. "Would you mind?" He asked her. Again, she looked at Yuki with question. He gestured for her to continue, please continue to allow herself to be hugged by strangers.

Reluctantly, Momiji let Miki go, but only to pass her to Haru, who crumpled her to him with such force that she let out a muffled cry.

"Oh sorry," Haru apologized, shifting backward, keeping his hands on her shoulders as he considered any damage he might have done her with his over-zealous affection. "It's just – I've never." When she didn't respond, he crushed her to him again, and by this time, Miki had apparently decided to ride this strangeness to the end. She reached her arms around Haru and squeezed back, causing Haru to cry out in happy surprise. He clung to her, but Shigure cleared his throat loudly and purposefully. Miki looked a little dizzy as Haru let her go and nimbly spun her into Shigure's waiting embrace.

"Thank you," Shigure sighed, repeatedly, rubbing one hand up and down her back. "This is – too wonderful."

"That's enough," Hatori broke in, gently tugging Shigure off Miki. He put a careful hand on her arm, turning her back toward Yuki, making him think that maybe he would not take the opportunity to test his own broken curse. He stretched his hand out to Miki, more than ready to have her at his side again. But Miki looked up into Hatori's face and, on her own, slipped her arms around his waist, tucking her cheek against his chest. Hatori threw his arms wide at first, staring down at her as if she were a misplaced and very confused toddler, but he soon softened, his arms coming to rest around her shoulders. His eyes closed.

"The curse," Kazuma mused as he watched Miki being shuffled among the Juunishi men as if they were playing some bizarre version of Hot Potato. Hatori dropped the hug, standing back almost guiltily, and Yuki seized his chance to grab Miki again, pulling her against him as he'd seen Kyo do with Tohru in the neko room. She settled her back against his chest and covered his hands with hers where they met just above her belt.

"I really don't understand," she whispered, twisting her neck so she could see some of his face.

"But you're still here anyway," Yuki pointed out, noticing how a happy contentment at having Miki in his arms was quickly filling up the empty space that had been ripped open in him when the curse had been lifted.

"And that's ok with you?" She asked, which made Yuki sad. He remembered at last how he had left her apartment, years ago now it seemed, how he had tried to break off their relationship, or whatever they were pretending they had as a relationship. How she had brought him back his phone against his wishes, how they had run for their lives, and how she had sat by his blankets as he spoke with Akito and fought the onryou.

"That's more than ok," he told her, nestling his chin over her shoulder. "We both know I don't deserve it."

"I'm sure it's a great story," she said. "Do you think you can –"

"Tohru!"

Kyo's raw scream shredded the giddy excitement of the newly broken curse. Miki jumped, and Yuki tightened his hold on her as all attention focused again on Kyo crouched beside Tohru's body. He held her face between his palms, shifting her head, tipping her chin upward and leaning over her, his ear close to her lips.

"Don't you dare," he growled at her as he sat up. "Not now." A circle formed around them, tight and anxious. Miki's hands lifted from Yuki's to cover her mouth. Kyo placed his fingers against Tohru's throat, at her damaged wrists, back to her throat.

"Hatori," he shouted for assistance, but Kazuma was closer. With practiced calm, he positioned his hands against Tohru's ribcage, one on top of the other, lacing his fingers together, leaning in and pressing a jerky rhythm, counting to thirty without hesitation. Kyo stationed himself at Tohru's head, cradling it in his hands, waiting for Kazuma to sit back before he bent over her, pinching her nose and cupping her chin, breathing twice with enough force to gently lift Kazuma's hands before pulling back and allowing Kazuma to start his count again.

"What's going on?" Miki asked, as she'd been asking all night without ever receiving an answer. Yuki put his hand on her head, pushing it slightly until he had her cradled in the hollow of his neck, focusing on her pulse, shamefully grateful of how alive she was in his arms.

"She needs more time," he said, pathetically far from an explanation. He pictured her in the spirit realm, black threading around her, possibly lost and alone. How could they reach her now? Now that she had broken the last tie to them, to this world, to her own body, how could she find them again?

"Stay out of the way," Hatori hissed to the others in the room, elbowing his way past Momiji to grasp at a cupboard containing a white box with large red lettering stenciled across it. AED.

"What's wrong with her?" Miki asked again, speaking too softly for anyone but Yuki to hear.

"She waited too long," he answered, realizing when he said it that it was an unsatisfactory response. "She broke the curse, but she took too long."

"What does that mean? Curse?"

It meant that Tohru was probably standing alone in an empty banquet hall in the spirit world with black ribbons through her body, having given everything she had to keep her promise to the Juunishi that she would someday free them.

"The Sohma family is cursed," Yuki tried to explain, tried to do anything other than see Tohru lying unresponsive, her body jerking disturbingly under Kazuma's administrations. "Was cursed," he corrected, rubbing his hands up and down Miki's arms anxiously. "We were all there, but when Kyo and I came back, Tohru stayed. And without her spirit, her body is shutting down."

"She's dying?" There. She'd said it.

"No," Kyo growled, astonishing Yuki that he had heard them, that he had the capacity to pay attention to anything other than Kazuma counting out Tohru's forced heartbeats.

"Not yet," Yuki agreed.

"Yuki, I'm scared," Miki whispered, and he looked on her with sympathy. Later, he would take the time to look at the entire evening from her viewpoint, how she had come to return his phone and ended up running through the property with a talking rat on her shoulder, fleeing from an impossible monster. When this was officially over, he would have to start at the beginning, from the very day that he had found Tohru on Shigure's front porch. But now –

"Shut up," Kyo commanded furiously, which made Miki hide her face against Yuki.

Yuki pet her hair, keeping silent. He too was scared, far more than he had been when facing the onryou, even more than when he had been pressed against the floor by its claws. She couldn't be beyond help. She could not leave them. She couldn't leave Kyo. Not after this. Not when the curse was broken and they could finally be together. How could he have let go of her hand?

Hatori slid to his knees at Tohru's other side, ripping the box open and separating the paddles, straightening the brand-new cords. "Keep back," he demanded, and Kazuma obediently sat on his heels, his hands still fused together and ready. Hatori's fingers tore at the buttons on Tohru's shirt, pulling it open, tearing through the bandages he had wrapped around her earlier that night, exposing the red slashes made by the onryou. Once he'd reached her skin, he immediately stuck the paddles against her chest, one near her collarbone and the other against her ribs, and suddenly a woman's mechanical voice was the only thing in the room that mattered.

"Analyzing rhythm," the machine droned. Kyo kept one hand on Tohru's head, his face turned down to keep his eyes on her, his other hand clenched tightly in a fist on his thigh. "Shock advised."

"Keep back," Hatori commanded again. "Kyo, don't touch her." Kyo looked more than ready to take a shock with her if it meant that he could keep contact, but Haru knelt behind him, physically pulling him off. For an instant, Yuki worried that he would be forced to break up a fight as Kyo struggled and turned a hateful glare on Haru, but whether he saw sense or just lacked the strength, he relaxed enough that Haru released him. Hatori pushed a button on the machine marked with a lightning bolt.

"Administering shock," stated the machine, and Tohru's body tensed as the current seized her limp muscles. Miki covered her face with her hands, and Shigure too turned from the sight. It occurred to Yuki that this was the second time the dog had watched a resuscitation attempt in less than a day, and the first time hadn't been successful. With one arm still around Miki, Yuki stretched across Hatori's desk to grip Shigure's wrist, drawing his attention.

"Two minutes," Hatori ordered, gesturing for Kazuma to resume his chest compressions. "Momiji!" His blonde head jerked upright at the summons. "I need some of those syringes from the counter and my bottle of epinephrine." There was another scurry of motion as Momiji searched the alphabetized cabinet and scooped up a handful of needles.

Yuki kept tight hold of Miki and Shigure, wishing he had more ability to hold on to everyone who needed it. He wanted to put a hand on Hatori's shoulder and tell him thank you in an endless loop for being there and for knowing what to do. He wanted to lean, shoulder-to-shoulder with Haru in quiet support. He wanted to stand with Kyo and apologize. But most of all, he wanted to leave his body again, rush headlong back to the dark of the spirit Sohma grounds, find Tohru, and carry her back to the light.


	18. I'm With You

**Author's Note: Well, here we are. The end. I always get so nervous about the end (which is why I have such a hard time finishing things). Will it be ok? Will they see what I was trying to do? Is it clear? Is it right? This one – this is the longest, most involved story I've ever told, with more characters and themes than I've ever dealt with before. I know it took longer than it was supposed to, but here, at the end, I am satisfied, and I hope a satisfying ending that you had to wait for is better than something rushed. I know there will be some of you who are disappointed, and for that I am sorry. There were some surprises in here even for me, and I think this was the right way for me to go. Thank you for sharing this with me. It's been amazing.**

**Chapter Eighteen: I'm With You**

Tohru crouched with both arms over her head, tightly curled around her knees on the floor of the banquet hall as the enraged spirits of the zodiac swirled around her in a swarm. If they had been the correct size, it would have been piteously humorous to see them whirling around in panic, like a bird who had gotten lost in a house and was zooming around to find an exit or at least a perch of security. However, these spirits were huge, triple the size of their earthly match – the rat the size of a normal ox, the ox the size of an elephant, and the dragon. Tohru squeaked again in fright, squeezing her eyes shut against the terrible sight of the dragon as it circled her, its scales grinding together in clashes of screaming metal. The banquet hall had erupted into pandemonium, shrieks of fright, yells of entreaty to stop or slow or wait, and the angry accusations of the panicked zodiac who had been cut from their mortal sanctuaries.

"It's all right," Tohru added her own cries to the din. "You don't have to be afraid. The onryou isn't coming after you. Please listen!"

The wise lady dragon who had been close to Tohru when she'd severed the bond began shouting directions to the spirits closest to her. As Tohru remained in a protective ball, the spirits shifted around her, sorting themselves, rearranging in an organized unit, each small group encircling one of the zodiac animals. Tohru heard the new sounds of shifting and peeked from under her arm to see the tigers, all of them, surround the fierce and growling tiger spirit, each of them raising their hands to place them on its coat, soothing it and calming it. It didn't take them long, those souls who knew the tiger best, who had shared their entire lives with it, to bring the beast to the floor where they covered it, some climbing on its back, others leaning on its paws, and the small girl that Tohru had freed first gently patting it on the nose. She cautiously turned her head to see the others being subdued in similar manners. The ram standing, trembling, under the hands of curly haired Sohmas. The rabbit's ears turned down and held like large sheets by a circle of brown-eyed spirits. The monkey hunched in the middle of a horde of spirits with its hands over its eyes. And the lady dragon with her palm on the large spirit's head, lowering it to the floor.

"Listen," she said before turning her attention to Tohru, causing all the rest of the souls in the room to look at her, quietly, with barely controlled fear.

"Um," Tohru said, beginning to straighten herself, pushing herself up from the floor, wishing hard that Kyo were there with her to help her explain. "I'm sorry," she began with the phrase she was most comfortable using. "I'm sorry I cut the bond without telling you, but you don't need it anymore." The animals made uncomfortable noises of disbelief, and Tohru spread her hands in a comforting gesture.

"We went to the neko room," she continued. "And we found the onryou." She paused. How was she supposed to tell them this? "It's all a big misunderstanding," she went on. "You've been hurting each other so long, and you didn't have to."

"This was not our choice," growled the boar, and Tohru gave him a smile of pity.

"But it is," she said. "You can choose every single day what you do. Whether you want to live in fear or if you want to let it go. You get to decide how you react, no matter what the circumstances."

"But the cat," the rat began, but Tohru was not interested in placing blame.

"He made a mistake," she admitted. "Just like you did. And everyone has suffered. The cat, you, all the Sohmas, and all the people like me who love them. But it can be over now. The bond is broken; you're all free."

The animals stirred, some, like the rat, in disbelief, and others in quiet discomfort. Tohru felt it too. She understood how being cut off from something you've known for a long time, even if it seems like the best thing for you, can actually be the most frightening. She remembered how her darkest times had been when she had been separated from the Sohmas. How she had clung to Kyo in the neko room even though it burned her soul. It hurt, but not as much as she could hurt.

"I understand," she empathized. "It's ok to be scared of something new. You haven't been on your own for centuries, but just look. Look at all of you. You're all free. There isn't a single bond holding you, but no one here is standing alone."

Her words brought murmurs of revelation as Sohmas searched each other's faces. Hadn't they been waiting for an escape? Hadn't they wanted to be rid of the zodiac for generations? And yet they had gathered around their spirit animal when they no longer had to, giving comfort to it and to each other when they were no longer constrained to do so. Tohru watched their faces as they realized how much they meant to each other, to the zodiac, how they could want to be free, but only free enough to make the choice to stay together.

"People form bonds all the time," Tohru said. "Stronger than these," she waved her hand at the severed silver strands that littered the floor at her feet. "Because you make the choice yourself."

"But the onryou," the rat persisted. "How can I protect them without the bond? How can we be sure that we are safe?"

"How could you not be safe?" Tohru asked, spreading her arms wide to include them all. "I've seen the onryou. She's no match for all of you together. But she's also not a threat."

"How can you be sure?" The rat asked again, and there were some mutterings of the same question among his group. Tohru opened her mouth to answer, but someone else beat her to it.

"Because it's true." She stood on tiptoe to see over the room full of Sohmas to where Akito stood at the door, the onryou next to him. Gasps of fear broke out, Sohma spirits huddling close to their zodiac animal, all pressing away from the door. The rat leaped in front of the Sohmas who had once given him sanctuary; the horse rearing up and snorting. Akito calmly stepped forward, keeping his hand on the back of the onryou, who walked on all fours at his side, head swaying as it moved in a docile manner. Behind them, the orange cat spirit trotted, followed by the Original Sohma. Even further behind, most standing outside because there was no room, was the army of cats who had made their way to the banquet hall.

"We came to free you," Akito revealed, meeting Tohru's eyes. "But it looks like someone has already done that."

As everyone watched Akito and the monster, the cat slipped past their ankles until it had reached Tohru, who scooped him up into her arms and ruffled his fur. "I'm sorry," it whispered, and Tohru nodded.

"I'm not the one who needs to hear this," she told him. He closed his eyes, but climbed to her shoulders and then to her head, where he sat and waited for everyone to calm down enough to listen. Akito held up his arms, focusing attention from himself and up to the center of the room where the cat looked terrified of so many eyes upon him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "For all of this. For letting my pride and my hurt enslave all of us." Then he leaped down and began to make his way through the crowd again, moving to return to the cat hosts, to the outcasts, the ones outside the banquet hall.

"Wait," the dragon roared, stopping all motion. The cat paused, but did not look back. "I am also sorry – for not stepping in when I should have. My action could have prevented much misery."

"And mine," echoed the ox, and the rooster, the horse, and all along the line apologized as the cat stood shaking, staring at the ground, not expecting anything, least of all this. At last, the circle came to the rat, who left his huddle of previous hosts and made his way to the cat, a comical scene since the rat was much larger than the little orange spirit.

"The responsibility," the rat said, "belongs to me. It was my prank that began all of this, and I am to blame." Tohru was reminded so much of Yuki by these words that she almost felt tears in her eyes. "I did not mean for it to go so long or so far. I did not mean for you to be hurt to the point of insanity, and I did not mean for you to never be included." He paused to look at Tohru. "I apologize to you also for my fear. I see how it can make someone do irrational things in order to try and protect themselves." Tohru clasped her hands in front of her happily and waited for what would happen.

"I think you should join us," the rat continued. "I would be content to let you take my place in the zodiac." The cat looked shocked and speechless.

"That won't be necessary," said the Original Sohma, moving through them to stand beside the cat and rat. "No one has to give up their place." The rat looked bewildered, and slightly put out, until the warrior was close enough to put his hand on the cat. At first, he shuddered at the touch, cringing slightly, but then he stood straight and began to grow until he was the size of a normal lion. Both creatures considered each other, then turned to bow low to the head of the Sohma house.

"Kami-sama," the rat toned, backing up slightly. Tohru looked harder, but saw no difference in the man she had assumed was the first warrior to kill the onryou in the physical world. But the others in the zodiac had recognized him now as the god who had first invited them to a banquet, and soon all of them were on their knees.

"I have waited a long time for you," Kami-sama spoke to the cat and the rat, but somehow his voice included all of them. "For you to understand the difference between anger and fear, to understand about blame and responsibility, to know that we are no one if we are alone, but we are everyone at all times. To know that to understand someone is to feel their pain, to want to relieve it and to protect them from future harm. And now that the day has come, now we will prepare a banquet. Not here, but in my own house." He turned in a slow circle, looking at everyone and smiling. "Where there is room for all."

He put a hand on the onryou, bending down to speak to her and Akito, but his words were heard throughout the building. "Lead them," he instructed. The onryou and Akito exchanged a glance before she dipped her head on her long neck to touch foreheads with him, and then together they dissolved into silver light that raced upward out of the hall like a backwards bolt of lightning. The dragon immediately crouched down, gathering up its previous Sohma hosts on its back, before it too materialized into light and followed. In groups, the hall emptied, and even the cats outside were welcomed by Kami-sama and waved off to at last be included. The hall, void now of its prisoners, seemed hollowed out and dead, but Tohru smiled in relief when she was the last to remain among the shreds of broken bonds.

Kami-sama looked to her and smiled. "Thank you, Tohru," he said. "For your sacrifice. You are welcome to join us if you wish." Tohru looked at her hands, seeing them streaked in black without the tiniest hint of gold and was struck with sudden longing.

"Can't I go back?" She asked, trying not to be afraid. How could she be afraid now? Now when everyone was free, the curse broken, feelings mended, and a happy ending for all? Kami-sama's smile softened gradually until he looked on her with pity.

"I'm sorry, Tohru," he said, "Your body and your spirit have separated. You won't be able to find your way back to it."

"No," Tohru sighed, exhausted. How could this be? After all that, after all she had done, couldn't he at least try to help her? "But I made a promise," she tried again, feeling her spirit starting to shred a little at the edges. Feeling isolated, as if she'd been cast back into the shed with no light and no hope and no memory. "We're supposed to stay together."

"There is nothing I wouldn't give you, if it were in my power to give," was the answer. "All things have their time."

"But I need to see him." She couldn't even really remember the last time she had. Had there been pain in his expression that she still needed to ease? Had he been safe? Where was he now? Would he understand what had happened to her?

"You will," came the answer, though Tohru wasn't looking at his face. She was trying to picture Kyo in her mind, that particular color of his hair, the way his hands looked when they covered hers.

"How?" She asked quickly, intent on the answer, ready to do anything to find herself again at his side. He put his hand on her shoulder lightly, flooding her with power, hope, ease, and sadness.

"This is the final resting place for all souls," he explained, and Tohru understood. She would meet with Kyo again upon his death. "It will be a lifetime from now, but he will come."

"Is that the only way?" Tohru had to ask. Wasn't there always something? She had already done so many impossible things in such a short time, why not one more miracle? Wasn't her relationship with Kyo different? Special? Why couldn't they do just one more amazing thing to prove it?

"Yes," Kami-sama answered purposefully.

"But it will be a good life now, won't it?" Tohru pushed. "He's safe now, right?"

She received an indulgent smile in answer, a pat on her shoulder. "He lives in a world governed by choice, and in such there is no definite future, no way to tell for certain that you have spared him from all pain and suffering, but you have given him years of freedom, Tohru. For that, you must be content and patient."

"I will wait for him," Tohru said sadly. "If you can wait hundreds of years to reunite the zodiac, then I can wait one lifetime for him. I told him once that I would stay locked up forever if it meant that he wouldn't be taken from me, and I meant it. I'll stay right here. Unless there might be a way for me to watch over him?"

"No," Kami-sama said gently. "That path is not yours, and his world is not here, but I do think I can give you something that will make the wait easier to bear." While Tohru waited expectantly, curious as to what he could mean, Kami-sama put his hand into his robes, drawing it out again in a loose fist.

"I wish you well, Tohru Honda," he told her. "Until we see each other again." Confused, Tohru watched as he slowly opened his hand, then couldn't stop herself from gasping as a red butterfly floated up from his palm. It hesitated a moment, as if to give Tohru the chance to look at it properly, before it dashed out of the banquet hall in a flurry of scarlet wings. Tohru looked at the man she had thought was a Sohma, but he only laughed at her. "Hurry," he instructed, shooing her away with his hand. She gave him a speedy bow before rushing after the butterfly.

She sprinted into the Sohma gardens, keeping the insect in her sight. It moved so quickly that it left streams of red behind it, and she could hear her high school friend, Arisa Uotani, describing to Kyo and Yuki the legend of Kyoko Honda when they had visited her grave together the first year after her death. How Tohru's mother would ride her motorcycle in the night so fast that there was nothing to be seen of her except the streak of her taillights – the Red Butterfly.

The pursuit led them out of the Sohma grounds, through unfamiliar streets that mirrored the physical world. Tohru didn't bother to watch where she was going or even guess where she was. Everything was unfamiliar to her except the knowledge that the butterfly would take her to her mother. As they sped up, the landscape blurred into nothing but gray and white fog all around them, and several times Tohru feared that she had lost the object of her chase only to see a glimpse of red a moment later and shift her direction accordingly.

As was becoming common in the spirit world, she lost her sense of time and only started marking it again when she noticed that the butterfly had stopped, pausing to rest on a hand that rested on the railing of a bridge. Tohru stopped running, pulling herself to a complete stop before she got too close. She knew the hand in the mist, knew the shape of the figure that stood with her back against the railing and her head thrown back. Her mother, dressed as she was in the picture Tohru always carried of her. With all her heart, she wanted to run to her side and throw herself into her arms, and again with all her heart, she was afraid to.

"Tohru," her mother called from the bridge and released her from thought, from anything but the desire to be a child in her arms. She flew up the bridge and practically cannoned into Kyoko's embrace, where both of them staggered with emotions. Her mother's feelings of failure, regret, and sorrow for her daughter, her pride at her accomplishments, her overpowering love. They waited with each other, waited for their memories and feelings to tell what they couldn't really say. How Tohru was so sorry for not saying good-bye that last time, how she worked so hard to fulfill her mother's wishes for her, how she wished that they could be together.

"I'm so happy to see you, Tohru," Kyoko whispered when all the images had been spent and they still sat with their arms around each other on the bridge.

"I missed you so much," Tohru wept, and her mother put her hand on the back of her head to pull her even closer. "I'm glad that if I have to wait, I can wait with you."

"Forever." Her mother laughed.

"I just wish," Tohru said hesitantly, "I wish I could see Kyo one more time to tell him it's ok."

The instant the words left her mouth, Kyoko withdrew the same way Yuki had done when she'd touched his hand in the neko room, when she'd gone to pull him away. The arms that had squeezed her so tightly slipped away, folding around her mother's torso as she scooted backward. The abrupt motion startled her, and she lifted her hands in exactly the same gesture she had used then, holding them upright, palms outward.

"Sorry," she said reflexively, wondering how the pain of missing Kyo had stung her mother so badly that she would let go of her.

"Don't be," Kyoko answered, leaning against the railing of the bridge, looking off into the white mist that floated around them, as if the bridge were the only thing that existed besides the two of them. "And don't worry too much for your friend. He'll be ok."

Tohru frowned. Would he really? Now that there was no zodiac, would he be welcomed as a proper Sohma? Would he make plans, travel, fall in love? All without her?

"I just want to see him," she confessed again. "We never really had a chance to talk after Akito was hurt. I just wanted to make sure. But I'm sure you're right." She reached again for her mother, not wanting to be without her touch for too long. The bridge felt disembodied, and it made her feel, for the first time really, that she truly had no connection to anything, not her body, not her mother, not anything in the world. She felt that if she didn't ground herself with something, she would disappear and dissolve into the mist.

But Kyoko dodged her daughter's touch, surprising them both. Tohru pulled her hands to her chest, hurt and frightened, while Kyoko covered her mouth with her hands and closed her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mom," she repeated. "I guess it doesn't hurt me as much as it does everyone else."

"It's not that," Kyoko denied, standing up, again gazing into the mist. "It's just – once you see, you'll think it will be easy."

"See what?"

Kyoko turned to face her, reaching out as if she meant to cup her face, but just as her fingertips brushed against her cheek, she paused, hovering there, debating whether she wanted to keep her secrets by never touching her again. From the brief contact, Tohru could detect pity, hesitation, and guilt.

"It's dangerous, Tohru," Kyoko advised. "It doesn't always work. Remember that." Then her fingers were back, brushing her bangs from her forehead, caressing the side of her face, and filling her with memories.

Tohru saw her mother just after her death, arriving for the first time in the spirit world. How she and Tohru's father had shared a joyful reunion not much unlike the one she had just had with Tohru. How both of her parents had sank in sorrow that Tohru was alone, how that was as unacceptable to Kyoko as leaving Kyo would be to Tohru.

"You said it yourself," Kyoko spoke through the haze of memory. "There are bonds that tie us together, stronger than curses or evil spells because we make them for each other. They change, sometimes thick, sometimes thin, and sometimes you aren't certain that they are there at all. But they are strong."

Tohru continued to watch as her parents kissed. Then Kyoko shifted away, drawing apart from her father but keeping his hand for as long as possible until she disappeared into the mist where she floated, as disconnected as Tohru felt, through nothing. Tohru felt under her mother's hands two cords, similar to the ones she had cut in the neko room and the banquet hall, but invisible. They were the only ties in the mist. From time to time, she could make out shapes in the void, hear wails of anguish, identify a human form crumpled in the nothing, wandering in despair. They made her afraid and cold, and sometimes seeing them made her lose her grip on the bonds that were her only guide. But then the mist started to ease, to fade away, until her mother returned to the color of the physical world, following a bond to where Tohru knelt in a room with tears soaking her face and her shirt, and her heart burst with grief and compassion. She took a place beside her daughter, murmuring words of comfort and encouragement, explaining what had happened even though she could no longer really be seen or heard or felt.

Tohru pulled back, too full to continue. "The whole time?" She asked.

"Yes," Kyoko answered. "I was there the whole time; I even followed you back here. But the curse separated us, putting me right where I started and you in that room. You used to smile at some of my jokes, even though you couldn't really hear them. You wept with my own tears, and I held you back on this bridge once until that boy could find you."

Tohru looked off the bridge now, into the mist where lost souls wandered. She knew now why her mother hadn't wanted to share those memories. Why she had not wanted to touch Tohru once she had brought up the idea that it could be possible. And yet, now that she did know, how could she not? "Could I go through the mist? Go back?"

"It's dangerous, Tohru," Kyoko admonished. "The mist is so vast and crushing. It presses on you, and it's easy to get lost, to forget who you are and what you were trying to do. All those other souls who will never get out, who can't hear or see anything or anyone, who don't even know why they feel the way they do. That's not what I want for you."

Tohru nodded slowly.

"How did you do it?" She asked. "How did you not get lost?"

"Even if you make it, it won't ever be the same. He won't be able to see or hear you, not really."

"But how did you do it?"

"It was the strength of the bond," Kyoko sighed. "And I used them both. I used the one I have with your father and the one I have with you, an anchor on both sides. As I got farther from him, it stretched and weakened, but the hold I had on yours grew stronger. And even then, even with them both, I struggled."

Tohru continued to nod, barely listening. She could stay, forever near him, silent and unseen, but there nonetheless. She could watch over him all the days of his life, a constant presence. Together, as they should be, until the time would come when she, herself, could fuse their souls into one and bring him back here, where they would all remain for eternity. What was mist compared to that? What was the thought of losing herself knowing that she could gain that? She couldn't even see the mist anymore, or the bridge, or the black flooding her veins. She saw nothing but her future with Kyo stretching out in freedom.

"Tohru, you're not listening," her mother intruded on her thoughts, and she pulled her attention back down to where Kyoko stood with her face very close to hers, her hands pressing on both shoulders. "It's dangerous."

"But I promised," Tohru answered simply, and Kyoko sagged.

"You don't know what you're saying," Kyoko protested. "You think it will be enough, just the love you have for him will keep you together, but it's hard, Tohru. It's so hard."

"Of course it will be hard," Tohru said, convinced. "Love is hard; getting close to people hurts, but losing them hurts most of all. You're here, and Dad is here, and you can be together. But Kyo is alone now, and if there's a chance that he doesn't have to be because of something I can do for him, how can I not try?"

"I knew you would say that," Kyoko sighed, but she was smiling as she said it. "And I know I won't be able to change your mind, and this isn't the first time I've had to watch you do something I desperately wished you wouldn't do."

"Mom."

"So I'll do what I did then – everything I can to help you."

"Thanks, Mom."

Tohru allowed Kyoko to squeeze her one last time, their hearts melting together as they prepared to separate. Then Tohru pulled back, smiling, nervously excited. She leaned over the railing of the bridge as she had months ago when she had not remembered Kyo or her own name, when she had been empty.

"Think of him," Kyoko instructed. "As hard as you can."

Tohru gripped the railing, pulling herself over it until she stood on the other side, her wrists locked around it, keeping her positioned.

"I love you, Mom," she said, grateful for Kyoko, for all she had done for her.

"I love you, too, darling," Kyoko answered, the only thing Tohru was waiting for. She pictured Kyo in her mind, all his expressions, the way he set his jaw in anger, how his eyes would soften when he thought no one was looking at him, how he pulled a towel around his shoulders, all the nuances that endeared him to her. The thoughts twisted around each other, so thick that they wound into something tangible that she felt under her palm. There was a bond connecting her to Kyo, and she was ready to follow it.

Without another word or thought, Tohru launched herself off the bridge and into the mist.

XXXX

Hatori pondered on when to intervene, knowing what he knew about CPR, about what happens to bodies when they die. Tohru had not responded to the drugs. Her heart had not returned to rhythm despite repeated attempts to restart it with electricity. And for all the movies where characters spontaneously began breathing again on their own after receiving a few rescue breaths, he knew that CPR alone hardly ever saved lives. It was a procedure meant only to keep oxygen flowing into the blood to preserve the brain and organs until other life saving support could arrive – the life saving support that they had already tried.

Kazuma had continued chest compressions to the point of exhaustion when Shigure stepped in. Haru also, and Yuki, had taken a turn until Hatori had stopped them a minute ago. Tohru's eyes were slightly open, the nerves in her brain relaxed to the point that even the muscles in her eyelids weren't taut enough to keep them completely closed. The only movements came between compressions and breaths where her mouth opened as if she were gasping, only her chest did not rise. Agonal gasping. The very last, ineffective, attempt of the brain to get oxygen into its system on its own power. The final breaths before death.

He saw all of this, but he didn't speak. He hadn't said anything since telling everyone that it was too late. That Tohru was gone and not coming back. Because of Kyo. The other Sohmas had fallen away at his direction, moving back with sadness in their faces; Kazuma tugging on Kyo's arm to also pull him away. And Kyo had screamed. Not words. His feelings were too desperate, too complex, for words, but the meaning was painfully clear. And he had leaped from where he bent at Tohru's head so he could place his own hands on her chest. His lips twitched as he counted almost silently, shifting from ribs to lips and back again, acting alone, not ready to give up. One minute more. Two.

Every couple seconds, Hatori could feel his relatives' eyes on him, waiting for his direction. When should we stop him? The eyes asked. How long can we let this go on? The truth was that it could go on indefinitely, for as long as Kyo had the strength to continue.

A few years ago, one of the Sohma children had fallen horribly from a tree. A little boy, Koji, seven years old, not part of the zodiac. Hatori had gone with his father, following the ambulance to the hospital, where they had been informed that Koji had broken his neck in four places. He'd been connected to machines that were doing what Kyo was doing now for Tohru, forcing oxygen into the bloodstream because there was no longer any brain activity that would do it automatically. The organs were alive, but only because of the life support system. The boy breathed, but he was not there. Hatori had helped the doctors at the hospital explain, had held the young parents' hands as they huddled together and made a decision, made the call about when they wanted the machine to stop. He remembered feeling sorry for them but detached from their pain.

But now, now it was his decision everyone was waiting for. How long was he going to let Kyo keep doing this? Yuki had said that she just needed more time, and he couldn't really make sense of that. How much time? How could that be all she needed?

Kyo's counting grew louder as he started to pant, wheezing out the numbers jerkily, heavily punctuating the first syllable that coordinated with his downward push. The bloody stain on the bandage at his side steadily widening with his exertions. And Hatori made his decision. He lifted his eyes from Kyo long enough to meet those of the others in the room, all silently considering him. He nodded, signaling without speaking that they should leave. Shigure took Momiji by the shoulders and left first, more than ready to depart, to not have to watch this. Haru followed on his own. Kazuma stood at Hatori's side momentarily, as if to offer his aid, but Hatori waved him off. The girl, Yuki's friend, started to leave, but Yuki held her hand and stood motionless, watching Kyo and Tohru. Hatori could see his thoughts on his face. Could he really just leave? Shouldn't he help? Was it right? But Hatori gave him a push to start him moving, allowing Miki to half-drag him the rest of the way out.

Only Kyo left now. The decision was made. He was going to stop this. That way, for as long as Kyo lived, he could hold on to the fury. He could blame Hatori forever for making him leave her, for preventing him from saving her life. That way, he would never have to blame himself for failing her. It would be Hatori's fault. And Hatori was ready to take it. He just had to stop him.

XXXXX

At first, the mist was just mist. Hard to see through, cold, but it gave way readily as Tohru moved through it. She almost doubted what Kyoko had told her as she began steady and strong with the bond grasped tightly in her fingers. But then the moaning started, the un-embodied voices of those lost souls, trapped here without time or purpose. Their wailing froze in Tohru's mind, and began a numbness in her chest and throat that slowly moved through her entire core. Her fingers stiffened; she could no longer feel all the time if she still had the bond or not. The mist grew thick, slowing her progress, bogging her down until she could barely move. She saw shadows around her, giving form to the piteous cries of the helpless damned. People she didn't know; souls who didn't know themselves. They wept for deliverance. They cried for peace, for mercy, for their lost senses. Then there were those who had been lost for so long that they could only scream wordlessly, creatures of pain and grief. Their feelings soaked the fog, coating Tohru as though the mist itself were just spirits that had burst apart in agony, spreading their suffering like poison through the void. It closed in around her until she could not see her hands, her feet, nothing but blinding grayness.

"It's gone," voices wept all around her.

"I have nothing."

"No one."

"Gone."

"So empty."

"So lonely."

Tohru shuddered, cringing, unable to tell if she were still moving or if she had come to a stop. The shapes in the mist shifted to things she recognized, but barely. She saw black water far beneath her, blood dripping down her arms and mixing with the water in the bottom of a bathtub. Broken glass. Black eyes in a hostile face. Silent rooms with gray snow falling past dirty windows. Cages.

"Who am I?" The voices echoed. "Doesn't anyone know me?"

"Doesn't anyone care?"

Without realizing, Tohru lifted both her hands to claw at her face, dragging her nails down her cheeks until they rested against her chest where she pressed them as hard as she could to try and release the weight that was already there.

"A failure."

"Unneeded."

"In the way."

Strange lights from passing cars filtered through the blinds, creating hostile, deformed shapes in the dark of her room. She pounded her fists against her ears, curled as tightly as she could. She tried to remember her name. Tried to open her eyes to look at her hands to see if there was anything still in them, anything familiar about them. She heard her voice join the crying as she tried to place herself. What was she doing? Where was she going? Why was it so cold, so gray, so lonely? She hugged herself, lowering herself into the mist, feeling the individual droplets of it connect into a pool, saturating her in despair.

XXXX

The best way, of course, was sedation. Not much, nothing like what had already been used on Kyo tonight. Something light to put him to sleep and then ease him back into consciousness gradually so he could return to these horrible truths a little at a time. Hatori moved around his stores, looking again for a needle, for one more bottle. But even as he worked, he kept listening behind him, some tiny part of him still hoping that he wouldn't have to do this. Even knowing everything that he did, he still knew that sometimes people did start breathing again on their own, sometimes they did return without any logical explanation. Sometimes miracles happened. He gently lifted down the sedative, ever so slowly uncapping the syringe. Slowly, so slowly, he measured. Come on, he pleaded. Don't make me do this. Someone stop me. He took a deep breath to stall, closing his eyes, opening them again, checking the measure. I don't want this to be happening. I need more time.

Behind him, he heard an abrupt, sharp crack followed by a sobbing yelp. He whirled around to find Kyo rubbing his hands on his legs. He knew what had happened, a common, simple, devastating result of rescue.

"It's all right, Kyo," he said immediately, knowing full well that it wasn't. Kyo was almost hyperventilating with horror, staring at Tohru, watching the grisly contortions of the continued agonal gasping. "Ribs break all the time during CPR. It means you're doing it correctly." But Kyo looked too stricken to have heard, as if the snapping of Tohru's rib had undone him, as if he were the one who had been broken. Hatori knelt across from Tohru, putting his hand on Kyo's arm, knowing that now would be the best time to make it all go away, just for a while. And yet, he found he couldn't. She just needed more time, Yuki said.

"But you can't stop," Hatori heard himself say, as he positioned himself over Tohru, starting the compressions again, feeling the unnatural give of the broken rib and pushing anyway. What are you doing? He questioned himself, giving a voice in his mind for the look that Kyo was giving him, even as he moved once more to Tohru's head to breathe for her. You know it's hopeless. Why prolong this?

Because up until now he had been a complete failure to Tohru. He had allowed her memory to be erased, allowed her to be cast out. He was the one who had kidnapped her, imprisoned her and Kyo, had said nothing to anyone about their isolation, had watched her tear herself to pieces for weeks and done nothing more than stitch her back together so she could do it again. So now, now at the very end, when it was probably too late to matter, he decided not to do it anymore. For once, he was not going to give up on Tohru. If she was out there, somewhere, like Yuki said, then he was going to give her as much time as she needed.

"Call to her," he instructed Kyo, using each word as a number in his count, giving the worst professional advice of his career. Kyo gave him a limp, defeated look, knowing perfectly well that simply saying someone's name was the least effective way of saving them. But this was different, wasn't it? This was the aftermath of a curse. This body, the one Hatori was working to keep alive, was still sound and functional. It was not broken beyond repair. A few cuts, some small blood loss, a cracked rib – minor injuries. There was nothing else wrong, only a missing soul. Maybe lost. Maybe unsure. Most certainly alone. And alone was the worst thing for Tohru. In the end, hadn't all she really needed was Kyo? Hadn't Kyo already pulled her from darkness? Healed her in a way that Hatori, a doctor, never could? Why couldn't he now call to her? Why wouldn't she hear him no matter how far away she was? He had seen it in infants, tiny pre-mature babies whose bodies had come into the world a little ahead of them. How they could be born blue and lifeless but then suddenly wake up in the arms of their mothers, as if they had followed a wish.

"Call her back," he ordered again, willing Kyo to work past his doubt, to ignore how everything looked. To believe.

Kyo gripped Tohru's chin, bending over her to give her another breath. Hatori started at one, but he could hear his cousin, barely, speaking her name, begging her to come back. To not leave him.

"Come back, Tohru," Kyo pleaded, softly at first, uncertain as always of the value of his own words. "You did it. You broke the curse. That means you're the hero, and the hero can't – dammit, Tohru, we're supposed to – I just need you to come back, ok?"

XXXX

She wasn't sure if she was falling; she was barely aware of anything. The numb feeling that had started early in the mist had now completely overwhelmed her. There was nothing external to hold to, and she couldn't really keep her thoughts together for very long. Sometimes she would see things. The black water. The dripping blood. A knife. An animal. Things that didn't make any sense but stirred her fear, her feelings of inadequacy, her knowledge that she would always be alone. The voices continued around her in hopeless chorus. Sometimes she thought she joined them. Sometimes she thought she was the only one speaking, that it had only been her, here, forever.

"Broken promise."

"Knew you couldn't do it."

"I know," she echoed. "I was so stupid. Why did I think?" But she couldn't remember what it was that she had done, or what she should be doing. She couldn't remember anything but the isolation, the useless bundle of moments that were her life. She had no identity, no hope.

"Tohru, you idiot." The last voice sizzled through the mist, a lightning bolt that jerked her awake, hot and energized in a way that did not belong. Tohru. Her soul responded as if the voice really had been made of electricity. That was her name. Tohru.

"Tohru, please remember," another voice, also saying her name. And this time a face, her mother's face in her mind, anxious and loving. How could she have ever forgotten that beautiful face?

"Come back," the first voice returned, filling her with sudden warmth, strength, and will. "Come back to me." She saw eyes partially obscured by orange hair, saw a fist playfully connecting with her shoulder, and felt a small tug as if someone had just pulled her wrist. Instinctively, she flexed her fingers, brushing against the bond she had thought she'd lost. Quickly, she pulled it, wrapping it around her waist, draping it over her shoulders, threading it through her arms, tightening it like a harness of memory and connectedness to the voice.

"Kyo," she gave it a name, even more important than her own, and the mist dimmed, silencing the weeping. She was not lost. She hadn't failed. She was not unwanted or unneeded. There was someone who needed her, who was right now calling her to him. And that was more than enough.

In response to her revelation, the bond pulled at her soul, drawing her up and out of the void by timed intervals. She heard someone counting, and with each number, she felt herself raised up. Soon the other voices ceased, and she was completely wrapped in the comfort of the bond. Her vision cleared, and she could see Hatori's room, see the dragon hovering over someone on the floor. And beside him, the one she had come back for, the one she wanted to keep watch over for the rest of his life. She rode the current of his call until she knelt beside him, joyful to have returned to him, to be his constant companion.

Her delight filled her so completely that she did nothing in those first moments of clear sight except focus on Kyo. She ran her spirit's fingers through his hair, traced her hands down his shoulders and rubbed them against his back. She caressed his cheek, bending over him to touch her forehead against his temple. She laughed in his ear that she was here, that she had crossed the mist, that nothing would ever tear them apart again.

But as she settled down, a sudden unease began to unravel her. Kyo shuddered under her spectral attentions, his focus elsewhere, his energy concentrated and fierce. He could not see her; he was not sharing her joy, her relief. As Tohru pulled back, she saw him better, and her excitement at seeing Kyo, just her Kyo, dulled into an ache. He looked pained, sorrowful; he hadn't noticed her return. Didn't know that he had saved her, that he had once again pulled her from her own private hell.

She watched him lean down, almost touching his head to the floor, breathing determinedly, then sitting up again. His eyes were red-rimmed; his nose broken enough that dark bruises splashed out along his cheekbones. He wore a buttoned shirt, open, with a bloodied bandage taped to his side. She put her hand again on his shoulder, slowly this time, in the hopes that she could soak up his misery as she had in the neko room, that they could share the same life just through contact. He shivered.

"Tohru," he said, and she sat straight up, attentive.

"I'm right here, Kyo," she acknowledged.

"Don't do this to me."

"I did it to save you," she answered, convinced she couldn't have done anything else.

"I know you were trying to save everyone. That's who you are, but that's not what I want."

Tohru listened, intent on his words, wanting to give him whatever it was that he wanted. To always be able to.

"What do you want?" Tohru asked him, as if he could hear her.

"I just wanted you to be all right," he confessed. "From the night Akito sent you away, I just wanted you to be happy."

"But I am happy, Kyo," Tohru protested. "The Juunishi are free, the spirits are saved, and I'm right here with you. How could I want anything else?"

"No, that's not right," Kyo shook his head. "I did want something else, the only thing that I've ever wanted more than a place in the zodiac. I wanted you. Okay? So you can't do this now. If you're going to break the curse, then it has to be a happy ending for everyone. You can't die." He bent over again, and Tohru finally followed him down, looking at what he was looking at instead of simply staring at him. The sight chilled her. Kyo was kneeling at the head of her own lifeless body. Her eyes, half closed, stared blankly, and her limbs jerked grotesquely as Hatori continued CPR. She recoiled slightly, unprepared for a scene like this. She had spent an eternity in the spirit world, hadn't she? For all the time that had seemed to pass, her body shouldn't be here. It should have been taken away, burned even. Not right here, not with Kyo still trying to force it to breathe. She'd been disconnected from it for so long, it looked foreign to her. Kami-sama had told her that she would never find her way back to it, and she was certain, looking at it now, that he'd told her the truth. If Kyo hadn't been near it, it would have been as unrecognizable to her as the faces in the mist.

Little by little, she came closer, watching her body, seeing it completely for the first time. Blood, fresh and dried, streaked down her sides from the wounds the onryou had given her, the tears opened by Hatori pushing down on her chest. Her arms, spread out to the sides, marred by scars. Her cheeks with distinct scratches down to her chin line, her lips darkened and blue. It made for a gruesome sight. And yet, the closer she came, the more she could feel it. As if she were on top of a slide at a playground, hovering on the edge. Her body had its own gravity, and it weighed on her. She looked back at Kyo, on guard with her head in his hands, and found his eyes directly on her.

"I don't know what you're doing," he said. "But if you're waiting for me to say it, then I'll say it. I don't want freedom if you're not there too. I don't want a life that you're not going to be a part of. I love you, Tohru, and I want you to come back. Now."

"Kyo," Tohru whispered, overcome. She looked back to her body, lying there, useless without her. Could she just go back to it? If it were that easy, then why hadn't her mother done it? She had come through the mist, had sat with Tohru as she sobbed at her bedside in the hospital. If it could be done, then why hadn't it been done before?

Her memory opened, showing her Kyoko's face in that bed on that most terrible day. It had been more bruised than hers. The body on that bed had been too traumatized. No amount of will could force it to function again. Maybe Kyoko had tried to go back into it. Maybe she had tried to make it start breathing again but failed. But Tohru's body.

She reached out to it, feeling the pull again, as if it knew her, as if it too wanted her to return. She could try, right? Just one more miracle, a small one even. For Kyo, who deserved it more than anyone. As Hatori counted and Kyo stroked the side of her face with his thumb, Tohru's spirit bent low over her body to see if they could be reconnected as easily as two droplets of water.

She pressed her forehead against her physical one, expecting resistance and finding none. The pulling sensation increased, and she thought that if she tipped a little further off her knees that she could just fall into it like falling down a well. Maybe it would be better to lie down into it like a bed, repositioning her limbs in mimicry of reality, fusing them together in that fashion. But would that work? She had already touched Kyo, whose body had warmth and sensation, tangible things that she could discern. She could not pass her hand through Kyo. She experimented with her hand on her own chest, pushing down with Hatori and finding that her palm would move all the way to the floor, and the air where she connecting with her body seemed to have suction, as if she had put her hand down a vent in a swimming pool.

"Tohru, please," Kyo begged again, steeling her resolve. This was her body, and she was getting back into it, no matter what. She stretched out on the floor beside herself, then rolled over, and everything happened at once. White light burst in her eyes, forcing her to close them. She fell, sucked downward, turned over, swallowed, and finally dropped into her mortal dwelling. Like sinking into snow or mud. It seemed ill-fitting, too large, too cumbersome a thing to have really been hers. One by one, her senses returned in a painful overbearing crush. She could feel her blood in her veins again, moving in hurtful throbs, sluggish, ineffective, pushed only by Hatori's thrusts against her ribs, doing the job her heart had long since given up.

Tohru began to panic. Now that she was here, she didn't really know what else to do. Her heart was still, her lungs too heavy to move. She felt she had fallen into a trap worse than the mist, confined and motionless, unable to change. How? How could she consciously start a process that she had always done without thought?

Hatori's hands pulled away, and suddenly Kyo was there, his fingers against her chin, his mouth on hers. He breathed into her; the oxygen singing through her lungs, loosening them, brightening them, and Hatori's first push moved her blood along with a rejuvenating pulse, the same way that the gold of her veins had flowed into Kyo when they touched in the spirit world. She felt it spread out from her lungs to her stomach, her heart, and up her spinal cord, crackling and sparking the entire way. It hurt in that exquisite way that it had once hurt when she took knives to her skin. The pain that made her realize that she wasn't dead yet. She was still alive, and she could stay that way.

Lights came on in the dark of her brain as Hatori pushed again. She felt something release in a chemical tingling that rippled downward. Her heart throbbed, jerked, raced, and then pulsed correctly, as if a switch had been shut off and then slammed on again. She concentrated on its rhythm, agonized as it began to regulate her blood flow. She wondered, on the floor with her eyes closed and her oxygen deprived body trying to work, if maybe this hadn't been a good idea after all.

XXXXX

Hatori's hands found their position automatically for another round as he glanced at the clock. He was fighting his own doubt as fiercely as he was fighting for Tohru's life. As weariness pressed against him, he struggled to maintain his faith. No one knew better than he did the frailty of the human body, and Tohru, though strong in so many other ways, was even more delicate than normal. Maybe she was lost; maybe she didn't want to come back. Maybe she didn't think enough of herself to even try.

But there are people here who love you, Tohru, he thought as counted. Kyo just said it. Didn't she understand what it had taken for Kyo to admit something like that out loud? Didn't that deserve a little effort? A little reciprocation?

He sat back, keeping his knuckles locked, while Kyo breathed twice. His weight shifted to his knees as he balanced above her, leaning in. He routinely pressed down, but then threw himself backward when he felt something push back.

"Hatori," Kyo yelled, thinking that he had given up and already moving to take Hatori's spot so the rhythm would not be interrupted.

"No, wait," he commanded, putting a questioning palm over Tohru's heart, studying what he could feel. His breathing increased in speed as he removed his hand to replace it with his ear. Yes. He hadn't imagined it.

"What?" Kyo demanded, fidgeting in a fury of barely controlled anxiety. "What is it?"

"She's coming back," Hatori reported, hardly able to speak through a relieved smile. On cue, Tohru gasped, pulling in air in that desperate greed of athletes after they cross a winning finish line. Hatori allowed himself a second to close his eyes and breathe his own deep sigh of relief.

"Help me turn her," he said to Kyo as he gently rolled her to her side. He remained behind her, becoming a brace for her to lean against. Her hands curled, as if she had been sleeping, her eyes still shut. Kyo looked uncertain. He put a careful hand on her shoulder, brushed her hair away from her face, rocked up on his knees and then settled back down on his ankles to bend over and look at her again. Hatori also bent over her, one hand on her hip, the other at her shoulder, his head hanging down, feeling shaky.

"Tohru," Kyo was calling again, the desperation gone from his tone. He was practically lying on the floor next to her now, constantly touching her, sometimes putting his hand in hers, sometimes touching a finger to her lips or her eyelids, plucking at her shirt, pulling it closed. With effort, Tohru opened her eyes, focusing on Kyo, her mouth open as she continued to breathe heavily. Kyo sagged, all his muscles relaxing at once.

"Don't ever do that to me again," he said dangerously.

"Well," Tohru panted, softly, making them both lean in to hear her. "Then don't get cursed." Kyo laughed, a funny sound that was less of a laugh and more of a contained sob. He wiped the back of his hand across his eyes quickly before using it to grab Tohru's fingers again.

The door to Hatori's room slammed open, and Hatori looked up to find Yuki. He suspected strongly that he had been waiting this whole time just on the other side of the door, listening closely for any sign that he should return to help. His face was pale, stricken, horrified and sick.

"She's fine," Hatori told him, taking pity. Yuki leaned against the doorframe, then turned to repeat the news over his shoulder. Meanwhile, Tohru was testing her limits and trying to sit up. Before Hatori could caution her, she gave a little cry of fresh pain.

"I'm sorry," Kyo apologized immediately, also pulling himself into a cross-legged position, helping her to sit up and gently tucking her into his lap. "I'm so sorry, Tohru. I – I broke your rib."

"He saved your life," Hatori corrected, more calm than he felt. His relatives were streaming into the room again, anxious faces easing into relief, into smiles, into weary happiness.

"Yes, he did," Tohru replied seriously, resting her head against Kyo as he wrapped supporting arms around her.

Yuki had reached them now, kneeling down before Tohru and taking her hand. He covered it completely in both of his own, shaking it a little as if chiding her for letting go of him before.

"Yuki," Tohru acknowledged, smiling and crying at the same time. "And Miki." Her friend crouched down to join them. "I never asked. How did you find me?"

"I didn't," Miki confessed, and Yuki released Tohru with one arm so he could use it to put around her shoulders. Tohru scrutinized them carefully.

"You know each other?"

"Yes," Miki admitted. "And you were right. The Sohmas certainly are something special." She turned to Yuki, a playful expression in her eyes. "Though strangely mysterious." Yuki pulled her closer, kissing her carelessly on the cheek.

"Yuki," Tohru squeaked, coming away from darkness so easily, so quickly, that Hatori marveled. "Look at you! You're hugging her!"

"Look at yourself," Yuki laughed, and Tohru obeyed. She looked from Yuki and Miki down to her hands, clinging to Kyo's shirt, seeing for the first time that she was in his lap, that he supported her completely.

"Kyo," she said wondrously, but he just humphed at her with a tenderness in his eyes that he almost never allowed himself.

"You did it, Tohru," Yuki explained. "You broke the curse."

But Tohru wasn't listening. Shigure and Kazuma flanked Hatori, each with a hand on his shoulder as he slumped tiredly between them. Haru and Momiji still stood at the door in ecstatic disbelief. All eyes rested on Tohru and Kyo, but they didn't know it.

"I always wanted this," Tohru said. "But now that I have it, I don't know what to do."

"I do," Kyo answered, cradling the back of her neck in one hand, turning her face toward his. He put his lips against hers, but this time gently, full of meaning and purpose and all those words that he could never really get right when he wanted to say them. And they closed their eyes and kissed as if they were the only ones who had ever existed, because it would be just them, forever. Because they promised.

Later, when the sun was fully up but most of the participants of the previous night were still sleeping, Hatori would call Ayame back and explain what he could. He would call another of the Sohma relatives and give instructions about the preparations for Akito's funeral. Then he would sit on his porch with Shigure and Kazuma and watch the sunlight make brilliant patterns in the puddles and the dripping structures of the grounds. They would drink tea in silence, and every so often one of them would peek through the door to where Yuki lay next to Miki, their hands entwined, and then over a little more to where Kyo and Tohru slept with their arms around each other, Tohru's head tucked neatly beneath Kyo's chin, both breathing evenly, finally safe, peaceful, and most importantly, together. Then they would shake their heads, meet eyes with the others, and smile.


End file.
